lundi 19 juin 2017


My beautiful and amazing friend Harriet Reuter-Hapgood has organised an online auction to benefit the residents affected by the Grenfell Tower fire in London, with all proceeds going directly to the London Fire Relief Fund.  I am overawed that while I was sitting at home, refreshing the Guardian website and weeping, she has actually organised something brilliant.

You can bid to hang out and talk writing with me and my awesome fellow author pal Jess Vallance in the pub - details here!  Jess (the author of BIRDY and THE YELLOW ROOM) is quite possibly the funniest person I know, and I have literally no filter (plus we both love getting drunk, quite frankly), so I can guarantee it will be great fun and possibly scandalous.  Please bid, because I'm worried nobody will and Jess and I will be sitting about in the pub by ourselves, necking gin and crying (as usual).  Warning: I have never in my life hung out with Jess and not been horribly hungover the next day.  Official fact.  Apologies in advance to the 'lucky' winner.  I can't wait!

There are also loads of other ace bookish things you can bid on, involving writers far more famous and proper than us.  Please do have a look, bid and share - thank you!!!

NB - I would say there are some particularly great opportunities here if you happen to be an unagented/as-yet-unpublished writer.  Agents and editors are offering critiques of manuscripts/submissions that will be worth their weight in FAIRY GOLDDUST.

For more explanation on the topic, Harriet puts it far better than I could, so here are some of her words:

Authors for Grenfell: An Online Auction is now live
This is an online auction of items from authors, agents and editors with all bids going directly to the British Red Cross London Fire Relief Fund, to benefit the survivors of and community around Grenfell Tower.
On offer are signed books, original manuscripts, school visits, meet the author opportunities, query critiques from agents, editorial feedback from editors, and more. New items will be added throughout the week. Famouses are involved.
Bidding opens 1pm BST today (Monday 19 June) and closes 8pm BST Tuesday 27 June.
Many items are open to bids internationally. We want to raise a lot of money.
To be clear: this is the biggest act of criminal negligence and state-sanctioned violence since Hillsborough, and it is fucking appalling that charities and volunteers are cleaning up where the government has barely stepped in. The Red Cross?! In the richest borough in London? C’mon!
Charities, churches, mosques, volunteers and residents should not be cleaning up the state’s mess, nor should we be raising funds this way. But the government has let these people down and we’re doing this anyway.
But I don’t believe Theresa May’s paltry £5m is enough. £5m between 100 displaced residents is £50k each. How does that pay for homes, furniture, food, clothing, replacement possessions? The £5,500 paid out so far is laughably meagre and polices the poor with what they're trusted with.
Money is needed immediately. £3m has been raised by Just Giving but much, much more is needed, as soon as fucking possible. 
Here’s how it works: find something you like, bid on it in the comments. When the auction closes in a week, winners will be contacted by Authors for Grenfell and asked to donate directly to the Red Cross fund.
Here’s how you can help:
Writers, agents, editors: Can you contribute a school or Skype visit, signed copies of your books, editorial feedback? Are you pals with Zoella or JK Rowling and want to give them a nudge to help?
School librarians, teachers, parents: You can bid for in-person classroom visits or even Skype visits from authors such as Angie Thomas, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Hate U Give.
Unagented writers: There are query critiques on offer from The Bent Agency agents Molly Ker Hawn and Gemma Cooper. Gemma sold my book The Square Root of Summer at a multi-publisher auction, so she knows what she’s about. Bid!
Readers: Do you like books? Signed books, dedicated especially to you? Bid! You can bid for personalised copies, original manuscripts, afternoon tea with authors, naming a character in their next book, swag… 
Everyone else: Please share the link on social media, pass on the information to anyone who fits the bill above, hassle the author in your life into donating, bid for stuff, or volunteer to help us out with the back-end admin by emailing 
(Obviously if you know me, Molly Ker Hawn or Sara Barnard you can contact us directly.)
Share widely. Bid bigly. #authorsforgrenfell

jeudi 15 juin 2017

Silly, and pretentious, and a freak.

On holiday, with time on my hands, I found myself – as ever – over-relating to song lyrics.  This is acceptable in times of high emotion, if the song in question is – say – Lover You Should Have Come Over by Jeff Buckley or That Was My Veil by PJ Harvey (NB both highly recommended for times of heavy weeping).  However, probably less so when you are lying on a sunlounger, drinking gin and listening to Madonna.

I listened to a lot of Madonna on holiday.  I still listen to the (IMHO) criminally underrated American Life album A LOT.  I am constitutionally incapable of hearing Nothing Fails without welling up.  For that song alone, Madonna and Guy will always be one of the saddest celebrity divorces for me.  Although, for poignancy, nothing beats the scene in Truth or Dare when she is asked ‘who is the love of your life?’ – no syllable has ever sounded more tragic and regretful than her certain and succinct reply: Sean.  I live in hope that one day they might get back together.

As you may have gathered, I have a lot of feelings about Madonna.

Listening to The Immaculate Collection, it struck me that, in her guise of 80s supreme confidence, she manages to make romance sound like some sort of sexy Stockholm Syndrome.  You may try to leave Madonna, but you will fail.  It’s a skill I wish I had.

‘You can’t get away/I won’t let you’ – from Cherish, otherwise possibly the sweetest and most lovely song.

‘Don’t try to run, I will keep up with you/Nothing can stop me from trying’ – from Open Your Heart, a song that appears to be one big boast about stalking.

By this point, drunk on gin and emotion and deep analysis of pop songs, I was over-relating to every line.  Which is where Rescue Me comes in, just at the right time.

There are few things I love in life more than a Madonna talky bit – this one even opens with her stating ‘I’M TALKING, I’M TALKING’.  Now, I am not sure I like the idea of being ‘rescued’ by love, but it’s hard not to be convinced by Madonna, and by lyrics that play directly into my hashtag relationship goals:

‘You see that I’m ferocious.
You see that I am weak.
You see that I am silly,
And pretentious, and a freak
…But I don’t feel too strange for you.’


When she talks about being ‘hungry for a life of understanding’ and the beauty of the triumph of hope over experience – always – I am sold.  Madonna, your love has given me hope.

mercredi 14 juin 2017

If you lived here you'd be home now

I am back from the wilderness (well, a whole FORTNIGHT in Spain with my grandmother).  I am very suntanned, so zen I am practically levitating.  I did very, very little.  I feel I have slowed down to octogenarian pace, which is a rarity for me.  Readjusting to real world life - alarm clocks and trains and general bullshit, quite frankly - is HARD.

I did writing, mostly on a sunny balcony, sometimes in a cafe.  I tried to go running every day and to chant every day.  I drank gin.  I read precisely zero books.  I sat still an awful lot.  I swam in the sea.  I had Thai massages on the beach.  I ate chips.  I slept.  I walked.  I wore a hat.  I listened to a lot of Radiohead and Prince and Steely Dan and Cat Power and Devendra (my nan's new favourite OF COURSE).

While I was away, I had a birthday.  How (HOW?) am I 36 years old now?  Nothing is what I thought it would be.  Mostly that's OK.  I got some great birthday presents.  The best ones were: a rose quartz necklace and the Brian Eno Oblique Strategies cards that I have been fascinated with for the longest time (I seriously cannot imagine a duo of presents that 'get' me more than this, from someone I haven't known for very long); and a black/red reversible Chinese silk jacket, that my dad bought my mum in Hong Kong in the 1970s and I have coveted literally my whole life (THANK YOU, MUM).

I am seeing a lot of cats and a lot of 11.11.  (WHAT DOES IT ALL MEEEEAN?  The cats speak Spanish so it's hard to tell, obvs.)  This generally means evolution is afoot.  Or that I am overtired.

Today I am mostly trying my best to hang on to the zen.  Wish me luck.

lundi 22 mai 2017

Sundays in Vienna

A whirlwind of a weekend... I think I have had the total of one night's sleep in the past four days, pretty much.  Entirely worth it.

I went to Vienna, where I hung out with wonderful family (including Mochi the dog), drank (a lot of) beer and ran with 30,000 women through the park.  A favourite discovery was that there is a gemstone vending machine outside the toilets at Vienna airport.  True story.  All your crystal-powered emergency airline needs met - you're welcome.

In other news, I read THE HATE U GIVE and I'm going to join the chorus of people saying that it's worthy of all the hype and more; a truly important book and you must read it.  It's (rightly) a tough read, but I wasn't expecting some of the well-placed humour and quite how much I would care about the characters (especially Big Mav, who - although I'm sure he would be appalled at the idea - has made it straight to the top of my Dream Fictional Husbands List), compounded by Lisa's advice on how to assess whether the good outweighs the bad in any relationship, which feels like a timely lesson for me.  Anyway, you don't need my words on the matter.  At all.  Just read it.

This post is also brought to you by: Roxy Music (pretty much new to me, ridiculously); kitchen discos (always) and pyjama parties; my new silver boots; Soap and Glory lipsticks; watching the video for Ashes to Ashes by David Bowie and getting the song stuck in your head literally forever; my new rose quartz necklace, which was the nicest present ever; rose-tinted octagonal sunglasses.

jeudi 18 mai 2017

Meet me in the bathroom...

You may have seen Vulture's oral history of The Strokes.  I for one am currently a bit obsessed with it.  I have many Thoughts and Feelings on the matter.  It's a fascinating all-tea-all-shade read, even if you were not into The Strokes.

I *was* into The Strokes.  Of course I was.  It was summer 2001.  I had just turned 20.  I was going out with a sweet boy called Mat who I'd had a crush on for ages; he had a mod haircut and a red military jacket. We would drink cheap fizzy wine and stay up late at night in his flat, spending hours watching a weird new show called Big Brother on his little black-and-white TV.  I had a short bowl cut and wanted to be Karen O from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.  I was writing: odd snippety sad little stories about a girl called Holly Cherry.  They were supposed to be modern magic realism.  They were pretty terrible.

The Strokes were very exciting to me.  I can't remember which song I heard first - it would have been Last Nite or Hard to Explain, but I have no idea which one it was.  We all spent a lot of time talking about them, and were literally counting down the days until the full album hit.

We saw them at Reading Festival that year, when they had to be moved onto a bigger stage because they had suddenly out of nowhere exploded into the biggest band in the world (as far as we were concerned, at least).  They were so fucking cool.  So New Yorky, which obviously always appeals to me.  So louche.  So SEXY, in the way that popstars should be.  Julian was definitely at the top of the dreamboy list for a while back then; he's probably still on it somewhere.  I mean, LOOK AT HIM.

That was also the year I saw PJ Harvey, wearing a PVC bra and matching skirt, playing my favourite songs from Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea.  I don't care if it makes me basic; that's my favourite PJ album.  It still sounds like summer to me.  It was perfect.

I think that was the last time I ever went to Reading Festival.  When it was over, I broke up with Mat (in a young and ill-equipped way that I remain mildly ashamed about) and went to Hong Kong.  I worked at MTV and wore Hysteric Glamour and Superlovers T-shirts.  I spent hours walking around and riding the trams, listening to music and scribbling in my notebook.  I disappeared.  After a summer of drugs and bands and going out every night, Hong Kong was a meditative time.  I came back different.

Things didn't change straight away.  I still loved boys who looked like The Strokes (still do, although I've sporadically tried to grow out of it).  I vaguely remember once singing Maps by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs outside a boy's window, some time after that.  We all got quite into Franz Ferdinand instead, briefly.  A couple of years later, I met Gordon Raphael at another boyfriend's gig in Camden, and I totally embarrassed myself by fangirling all over him about Is This It.  He was wearing a cool jacket that had a picture of Debbie Harry sewn onto it, and looked utterly confused.

It took me a while to take my writing seriously enough to actually finish a full-length novel.  I grew my hair.   I grew up.  I still love music but I've probably never loved a brand-new band like I loved The Strokes - not in that same way, anyway - since that summer.

vendredi 12 mai 2017

It's a very good sign.

I have woken up with this song wedged in my head.  This is neither the original, nor remotely cool.  However, on a gloomy Friday, I say you should always go with the 10 Things I Hate About You version.  Always.

Today I am mostly wearing my sparkly Star Wars sweatshirt, visiting the crystal shop later (I have a hankering for black obsidian in my life right now)... and probably watching 10 Things I Hate About You.

Bon weekend.

jeudi 11 mai 2017

Energy Detox

We're in a Scorpio full moon this week.  As one of my favourite websites, The Hoodwitch, has pointed out:

It's Full Moon time again, kiddies, and this week is likely to bring hella chaos, so get ready! 
The Moon will be full at 20 degrees of Scorpio on the 10th at 2:42pm PST. Expect feels to be at heightened levels of intensity leading up to this event. It’s a dangerous time for building up resentments, developing grudges, or obsessing on your ex, so don’t say I didn’t warn you. Scorpio is the sign of death and regeneration, healing and destruction; whatever happens with this Moon, it isn’t likely to be chill. You’re going to want to get deep, and that can be complicated if things do go your way, which I’m sad to say they probably won’t.

There's a lot more useful stuff on there; I recommend having a look if you are so inclined.  Whether it's the full moon or what, I'm really feeling this chaos and intensity.  So, today I have written a list of the myriad hippie bullshit ways in which I am going to have a two-week energy detox.  How very Goop of me, right?  This ranges from 'no/minimal drinking', 'daily exercise' and 'more lentils' to 'pay attention to red flags' and 'don't get on someone else's rollercoaster'.

I'm hoping it will help.

One thing that *has* helped lately, is the book 'The Course of Love' by Alain de Botton.  My stepmum sent it to me in the post, as she thought (very rightly) that I would find it helpful. It was only when I started talking to friends about it that I realised how much love there is out there for this book, and how many people have found it genuinely transformative.   Cannot recommend enough.

Finally - while chatting about dating and the universe with a lovely friend today, she gave me the best piece of advice I've heard in a while: If it's right, there's literally nothing you can do to fuck it up; if it's wrong, there's literally nothing you can do to make it work. Wise words worth bearing in mind, comrades!

Now, please excuse me - I'm off to do some chanting, eat some lentils and howl at the moon. Or similar.

samedi 29 avril 2017

And don't f**k it up.

I'm in bed this morning simultaneously writing, watching RuPaul's Drag Race and drinking coffee.  Not even 9am and I've written over 1,000 words before I have to get up and go to Zumba class - not bad.

Drag Race is now into series 9 and obviously I am following it avidly (even though the absence of my bae Santino Rice still looms large in my heart).  In fact, it occurred to me this morning that I have written much of my recent work with RuPaul playing gently in the background.

It only just struck me - is this where the theme of makeover and identity in BECOMING BETTY came from?!

Thanks, Ru (I absolutely adore you).  I would also like to mention that my all-time faves are Pandora Boxx, Sharon Needles, Alaska Thunderfuck 5000, Adore Delano, Jinkx Monsoon, Bianca Del Rio, Kim Chi, Ivy Winters and Jiggly Caliente.

May we all have Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve and Talent.  Don't f**k it up.

vendredi 28 avril 2017

Betty Stuff

I can't believe that BECOMING BETTY has been out for over a week!  Launching a new book is SO nerve-wracking, so I am incredibly grateful that people have been kind about it.  Seriously.

Thank goodness, people really seem to 'get' the book (sometimes I feel like such a little weirdo, out of step with the world, so this is genuinely a wonderful surprise) and to love Lizzie as much as I do.

Here is a little round-up of some nice blogs and stuff about Betty in the last week.

An interview with the fantastic Jim from YA Yeah Yeah

Lovely little review from 100 or less...

A post by me on the My Kinda Book blog

A guest post and review on the wonderful Tea Party Princess

Lovely review by the lovely Rebecca

A guest post on the power of the makeover with wonderful Kirsty

In other news, I did a very fun Sunday YA chat on BECOMING BETTY (thank you to everyone for all the ace questions and book recs).  Last night I went to the launch night of Acoustic Coffee Club (it was great; if you're in Brighton, you should totally go to the next one).  I just finished reading WHO RUNS THE WORLD? by Virginia Bergin and am full of feels about the future global matriarchy (obvs).  Any free time is currently taken up with trying to write my next book and obsessing over season 9 of RuPaul's Drag Race.  Although, this weekend I also intend to paint a wall.  Exciting times, dear reader.  Exciting times.

lundi 24 avril 2017

Dirty Harriet

IMHO, all the greatest bands are based on great friendships. The band is the ultimate gang – or should be, if it’s done right. The best bands look like a gang of mates having a laugh, not like some slick corporation.

I know all the classic pairings are obviously, like, Lennon/McCartney etc, but the best friendship gangs in the history of music are always girl gangs. It’s why as a teenager I loved Kenickie and Shampoo, and even the early Spice Girls back when they looked like they dyed their own hair and bought their stage outfits from Camden Market, and Geri (my fave) always looked a bit like she’d just fallen over at all times.

My new book BECOMING BETTY features a lot of bands (which makes sense, given that the action centres around a Battle of the Bands contest). My favourite of the lot are the all-girl gang, Dirty Harriet. They have been getting a lot of love from readers, which particularly delights me as they are pretty much my dream girl gang.

I thought 'Dirty Harriet' sounded like such a classic riot grrl band name, like the DIY punk bands I loved as a teenager and still do – like Heavens to Betsy, Bratmobile, 7 Year Bitch or Lunachicks. I googled the name to make sure it hadn’t already been done, and was actually shocked (and pretty delighted, for my purposes) that it hadn’t been used before.

I discovered the original riot grrl bands via reading interviews with Kurt Cobain in NME, in which he sang their praises (many of my early musical discoveries came via my love for Kurt Cobain and his love for generously bigging-up his favourite obscure bands). I discovered a whole world of DIY culture, bands and fanzines, and it was genuinely life-changing. The riot grrl DIY ethos made me feel like I could have a go, create my own culture and get involved – the same message I would love to give readers of BECOMING BETTY.

Dirty Harriet are made up of Harry, Jess and Lola. They are friends first and bandmates second. In fact, Harry and Lola are cousins – an important fact as my cousin is my BFF and it adds to the tight-knit gang mentality (see also: Shampoo made up of cousins Jacqui and Carrie; Throwing Muses revolving around stepsisters Kristin and Tanya). Also, when you're a teenage girl who doesn't have that many friends, having a cousin the same age is really useful (just saying).

Dirty Harriet take their band seriously; music is the most important thing in the world to them and they practise diligently. As they say themselves:

‘Basically, we all have no life. But that’s OK because we didn’t exactly have glittering social lives to begin with. We’re all music geeks.’‘…But that’s OK, because it’s always the music geeks who win in the end. Every cool rock star in the canon was once a music geek. That’s the law.’

 However, they also want to have fun and remember that friendship is more important than anything else. They have their own manifesto to prove it, which covers everything from their influences to gig etiquette to anti-fashion ideas.

Most important, Dirty Harriet are about doing things their own way: playing what they want, wearing what they want and not caring about what anybody else thinks. Just like all the best girl gangs in history.

Here are some of their favourites…

mercredi 19 avril 2017

Launching Betty.

So, my new book BECOMING BETTY is officially out tomorrow!

Launching a book is a really anxious process (for me, anyway).  When I was younger, I used to keep all of my writing in a box under my bed, refusing to let anybody read it - not even my best friend, who was always asking. She still jokes that in a perfect world I'd probably still rather keep all of my writing - along with my feelings - in a box under the bed.

Writing a second book (and this is my second 'proper' book) is HARD.  Everyone says it's hard.  I wasn't prepared for quite how hard it would be, particularly as a lot of Other Stuff was happening in my life at the time.  It involved a lot of tears and sleepless nights and missing my best friend's birthday party.

However, it also involved a lot of joy.  Amid all the Other Stuff, it was an escape.  I wrote a lot of the book sitting in cafes in France, in the sunshine with a cup of coffee or a glass of pastis.  I wrote some of it on cross-channel ferries.  I wrote a few big chunks of it at a borrowed desk at weekends, in an empty tower block with a beautiful view of Brighton, taking breaks for cups of tea and dancing around with my then-boyfriend to 'Take Me Home' by Cher, on a Paradise Garage bootleg compilation mix.

I hope some of that joy comes across.  BECOMING BETTY is a book about music and friendship and identity (and flapjacks and haircuts and milkshakes and band T-shirts).  I've had a funny relationship with Betty, but now I can look at her with a lot of love.

Tonight I am having a party to celebrate.  I have a ridiculous outfit and new shoes.  I have made a lot of cakes.  I'm really happy to be celebrating this book coming out into the world.

So here is a playlist I made celebrating girlbands, which is definitely fitting - and brings me a lot of joy...

mardi 18 avril 2017

Guess we're not actually Girls anymore.

It’s a funny old feeling when a TV show lasts longer than the life you thought was permanent. You know, actual proper things. Whole universes. Whole lives.

GIRLS first aired in 2012. Funnily enough, I commented to a friend the other day that I think the last time I was uncomplicatedly happy was in 2012. Sounds melodramatic, but it’s true. That year, I lived in a sunny top-floor flat and went on holiday with my nan. It was the year of the London Olympics and I swear the world was a nicer place back then.

In the interim, there has been death and divorce. I have been forced to wonder if I have had a particularly shit run of it, or if this is simply what being a grown-up over 30 looks like.

Of course, a million other tiny things have happened. I have met new friends and in some cases not seen enough of old friends. On the good side, my best friendships feel a million times stronger than they ever have.

My hair has grown. I have new tattoos. I have had new jobs, a new house (now not even new any more). I have written a few books. I have read a lot of books.

I don’t know if the science holds up – that’s not really my thing – but I’m sure I once read somewhere that our cells fully regenerate every seven years. In that case, I am almost a completely different person. My hair has grown, my face definitely looks older.

So... To the end of GIRLS. A show I loved so whole-heartedly when it began, that I actually felt like it changed my life a tiny bit. I wrote about how exciting it was to see girls like me on television, in a mainstream show (while reflecting on what a small demographic this may represent). I enthused about the cleverness of Lena Dunham’s writing and basically everything to do with the show (especially Jessa, obv).

It was genuinely exciting to me.  Even (maybe especially) when I lived with a boy who insisted on referring to it as ‘Sad Sack and the Fellas’. He once walked into the room, took one look at the television screen, said ‘oh, ugly people having depressing sex – great, must be Sad Sack and the Fellas’ and walked out again.

My friends and I discussed it at length, passionately. When season 2 was released, my friend Ruth and I preordered the DVD and cleared an entire weekend so we could watch in one go, together. Season 2 may in fact remain my favourite – when my love for GIRLS was at its strongest. I still think the episode with Jessa’s dad remains one of the most affecting pieces of television I have ever seen. It may be purely personal, but I tear up even thinking about the moment when Jessa says ‘BUT I’M THE CHILD’.

Like so many relationships, it has become more problematic as it has gone on. GIRLS is problematic. My relationship with Lena Dunham is not as unquestioningly positive as it was, to say the least. But that’s because we have all changed and (I hope) grown. That’s what should happen over the course of six years.

I have watched this final series with a fond nostalgia, even while it has been happening. It’s time for it to end, and in the most part it’s done so pretty well. I will say: I know I’m in the minority but I love Jessa and Adam together. No matter what anybody else says, I refuse to think that Marnie is the worst. I will never not love Ray.

I also don’t mind saying that chief of my Many Feelings about the whole thing is: I can’t believe we are ending this with Hannah having a baby and not me.  But it’s OK – sounds trite, but it’s all a lesson that anything can happen in six years. Who the fuck knows how it will end?

jeudi 13 avril 2017

"This library could be all you ever need..."

I write books about music.  My brilliant friend Chris Jones (AKA Mister Jones and his Guitar) has written a song about books!

The song is called 'Library' and it is wonderful.  I genuinely cannot overestimate how much joy it brings me that such a lovely song about books and libraries exists!

So, Chris and I got to thinking...  We are both of the same opinion that in these times when libraries are in danger and art is basically all we've got, we should Make a Nice Thing.  We are both fans of doing all the things.

The answer was obvious - clearly, we should make a video to celebrate the wonders of books and music and libraries!

The concept is this: a video of writers interpreting the lyrics of the song (see below...), and (as RuPaul would say) lip-synching for their lives.

That's where you come in...  If you are a writer and you would like to be involved, please make a video of yourself (ideally in front of a bookcase or reading a book or in a library, or doing something cool and bookish of your own choosing), lip-synching to 'Library'!  Any part or all of the song; interpret it however you would like, and feel free to get as creative/silly as possible!

Chris is going to edit all of the videos together to make one big beautiful bookish musical video extravaganza to celebrate art in all its forms!  We'd be very happy if you would like to be involved.

The technical bit: no need to get too professional about it, a short video on your phone will be great.  Ideally with the phone turned sideways so it's in landscape.  Get in touch with me here or on Twitter or via email and I'll give you the deets on where to send it.

Finally...  You'll need the song; you can download it for free at the following places:

Mister Jones and his Guitar

written and performed by 'Mister Jones and His Guitar'

One day I stepped into a library
I found some books that I always meant to read
with each new word - builds up my strength
like the protein shakes that bodybuilders drink.

You might say...
that I'm not helping you today and that the world gets in the way
you say you can't change...
the mind you're trying so hard to tame
take your time, read the print and then... turn the page.

You kept me up till half past three
You made the world that day a little better place to be
I see the burning log  - you see the growing tree
but now I've cracked your spine I know you'll never just be mine.

You might say...
that I'm not helping you today and that the world gets in the way
you say you can't change...
the mind you're trying so hard to tame
take your time, read the print and then... turn the page.

Cos this Library could be all you'll ever need
full of hope and full of memories
find the right books and find a little time to read
cos there's room for more adventures before we fall asleep

You might say...
that I'm not helping you today and that the world gets in the way
you say you can't change...
The mind you're trying so hard to tame
take your time, read the print and then... turn the page.