Don’t Trust The Books (True Lies)

Tuesday 20-05-2014

After a whole lot of writing, reading, rewriting, rereading, and so on I’ve sent my work to my Dutch friend who is a teacher of English. He’s going to check it for and he’s got an ex-colleague who is also going to read it and he just told me that his ex-mother-in-law is British and also willing to proofread it. I’m on the top of the world (the Carpenters!).
Talking about being on top the world, while I was rereading my work I came across the story of Evelyn who in her first year at this school still believed the world was flat. Which got me thinking a little. Then I started looking it up and turned out there’s even a society called ‘The Flat Earth Society’. They still believe and try to find proof that this world is flat and that it’s some sort of conspiracy of government and the likes to trick us into believing the world is round. This society even has a map of a flat world (round like a record) in which the edges are more or less ice and snow. I found it quite inspiring and so I came up with some lyrics in which a group of people have sailed to the edge. 

Southern Pole of Cold

The world isn’t round
She is flat like a pancake
If you sail towards the edge
You are bound to fall off

The globes and the maps
They are obviously all fake
If you sail towards the end
You are bound to fall off

Bound to fall off

The scientists claim
That they know what they know
But we’re here near the end
And are about to fall off

I think we have found out
There’s a world down below
If we get any closer
We’re bound to fall off 

Bound to fall off 

Here Hell’s frozen over
There’s nothing here but ice
It’s the edge of the world
And we’re bound to fall off

Don’t trust the books now
They are filled with true lies
Behold the end of the world
And we are bound to fall off

Bound to fall off

One day I hope to be able to put some music to my lyrics. I’ve got some ideas, but they’re just not good enough yet. Who knows, maybe I’ll be a famous rock star one day. I won’t forget about you, you’ll be on the guest list and we’ll hang out backstage drinking expensive orange juice and eating expensive sandwiches. See me tomorrow.  

Video Killed The Radio Star

13-05-2014 Tuesday

 Evelyn said that her parents thought I was sweet, a bit gullible, but sweet. I don’t know if it’s a compliment or not. At least they didn’t hate me or throw me out of the house, so I’ve got that going for me, which is nice. Hopefully I’ll never have to go through this again; meeting the parents for the first time and I hope the second time I won’t be so nervous. I don’t even want to think about her parents meeting mine … crud, I already did.
I asked Mum yesterday if Evelyn and I could go to the cinema this weekend. Evelyn’s Dad was willing to take us there and pick us up. Mum said she would think about it. Then I asked Dad and he told me I had to ask Mum. When I told him that she said she would think about it, he said,’ In that case, don’t get your hopes up.’ I offered to help Mum with her household chores if she’d let me go. Suddenly Mum turned full magician on me by conjuring up a long list of household chores that need to be done. It was as if she had been prepared. I felt like I was being had.
Today I helped out with so many things, that I even didn’t have time for homework. It’s half past eleven at this very moment and I still have to it. First I am going to finish writing this and then I am going to start studying and I need to finish my American History project this week. Actually it should have been finished earlier, but because I had been ill the teacher gave me some extra time. You could give us kids 64 years to do a project in, we would still wait till the last day to get it done.
Talking about school, it’s been very quiet on the Mr Owen and Mrs … sorry, Ms Williams front. I know that Ms Williams is now officially divorced, but it doesn’t seem like she and Mr Owen are in some sort of relationship. Besides that I think I saw her winking to some pupils again today or maybe she had something ‘stuck in her eye’. I said it before and I’ll say it again, this woman must have some pretty awesome eyes, because I’ve never seen anybody in my entire life who has had so many flies caught in her eye. It is most definitely not her eyelashes falling out, if it were, she’d now have bald eyes. Is there a word for that, when your eyelashes have fallen out completely? No hair on you head is bald. No more eyelashes is called … ? I have no idea. If you know, please let me know. I’ll read it in the morrow. Good night and see me tomorrow. 

The Fat Lady Sings

23-04-2014 Wednesday

I should consider myself lucky and not just because I haven’t heard ‘Cuz I’m happy, clap along with me’, but also because nothing really embarrassing happened while Evelyn was here. Mum’s cooking was better than average, Dad controlled his thoughts and Cheddar controlled its butt – trust me, you don’t want to smell the farts; you’d think the dog was rotting away on the inside – and there were no unexpected visitors, though Unice was looking mighty curiously out of her window when Evelyn rang our doorbell. I waved at her and she quickly drew the curtains (she probably feels very happy she’s able to do that again).
Evelyn and I spent most of the time up in my room talking, reading, listening to music and … (drums, please) … creating our own music. I think I mentioned this before, but I’m going to say it again anyways, Evelyn wants to be a singer in a band one day. Evelyn can sing really well, she’s got a lovely voice and she can play the guitar a little bit (better than I can). Though she will have to work on her stage performance, as she can’t even give a presentation without sweaty palms and a shy look. But, we figure that’s something that one will learn over time.
We wrote something of a song together today. She sang like a nightingale and I tried my best not to sound like a crow. While writing it we figured we should think a little bit outside the box for a change. Most of the times we like reading morbid things, especially when it comes to poetry and such, so we figured we’d change it around a bit and write about something incredibly happy. That’s when we got the idea of writing about a circus. What’s more fun than a barrel of monkeys? A circus! Here are the lyrics we wrote this afternoon. I was really happy with the fact that we could work so well together and even without arguing or fussing; it just went naturally.
The song is about a couple (us) on their way to the circus, but the woman feels that they’re running a bit late and she is trying to rush the man as she doesn’t want to miss a single thing. Along the way they talk about all the things that they wouldn’t want to miss for the world.

The Fat Lady Sings

Can we get there in time                       (Arthur’s Verse)
You’re asking me now
Sure dear I answer
But I don’t know how

If we get there in time                           (Evelyn’s Verse)
We’ll see cannonballs a flying
Hear elephant’s trumpets
See a mime that is crying

The night is still young, girl                 (Arthur’s Chorus)

We should get there in time                 (Arthur’s Verse)
So there’s no need to shout
We’ll see lions jump rope
If tonight’s not sold out

Will we get there in time                   (Evelyn’s Verse)
To see clowns and their gags
With funny red noses
And crappy old bags

The night is still young, girl                 (Arthur’s Chorus)

We will get there in time                      (Arthur’s Verse)
Toute le monde will be there
To hear the band play
And breathe in fresh air

We must get there in time                    (Evelyn’s Verse)
To see old men cry
Hear the fat lady sing
See red roses fly

The night is still young, girl                 (Arthur’s Chorus)

Before we knew it it was about ten o’clock and Evelyn had to be home by nine. She called up her parents to say she was sorry and Dad offered to give her a ride home. Her parents had forgotten about the time themselves, otherwise they would have phoned us themselves, so they weren’t really mad at her (I’m glad about that). They even said that it might be time for them to meet me. I overheard the conversation and her father literally said (with a very posh voice),’ I think it’s about time that we meet this Arthur character, as this thing you are having seems to be getting rather serious.’ It sent shivers down my spine, but not the good ones. She got home safely and I spent the entire evening singing our song. And now it’s time to sing myself to sleep. See me tomorrow.

Another Day Another Liebster

Lydia Devadason – go follow her wordpress this instant: – nominated me for the Liebster Award. Some time ago I was already nominated, but Lydia said,’ You can never have too many Liebsters’. I decided to answer her questions, because that’s the least I could do for being nominated by such a wonderful person. Here’s to you, dear Lydia.’

1. What inspired you to start a blog?

‘It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life.’* At the end of 2013 I decided it was time for a big change in my life. Well, actually, Grandma decided it was time for a big change in my life. She told me to get a Facebook account even though she had no idea what it was. I was – and still am – socially awkward (I write a lot, but I don’t really say a lot in real life) and I didn’t have a lot of friends, we kind of figured this could help me. I think it is helping me a lot, though I still don’t have a lot of friends at school, I have made a lot of friends here.

2. Do any of your close ‘real’ friends blog?

Actually, I don’t know if my classmates are bloggers, though I don’t think they are. Most of them are too preoccupied with having ‘swag’ or leading the ‘thug-life’. I think that I can safely say that I have talked about more interesting things and more personal things to some of my fellow bloggers here than to most of my so-called friends at school. To that respect you are my real friends and I can say that all of my ‘real’ friends are bloggers.

3. Have you any strange, embarrassing, or frightening blogging experiences?
No, and let’s keep it that way. 

4. If eating at a restaurant what would be your favourite meal –with or without dessert?
You are right; my favourite meal would be dessert. I’d prefer eating it at the Restaurant at the End of the Universe.

5. If money were not an issue, what would be your perfect holiday destination?
Well, I have met some great people here on the blogosphere and I’d love to meet all of them in person. If money were not an issue, I’d travel the world to meet up with all those lovely people and shake them warmly by the hand in person.

6. If money were no an issue, what would be your perfect evening’s entertainment?
Cirque du Soleil. I have always wanted to see one of their shows. Twould be a dream come true. 

7. What’s your favourite word?

8. What quality do you think friends appreciate most in you?
Well, I do know which things irritate the hell out of most people. I could name those qualities quite easily. I think my honesty is much appreciated, though maybe not always at the time of speaking. That’s why I often say,’ Hate me now, love me later’ when I am being a little too honest again. It’s just that so many ask me to give me an honest opinion when they actually just want you to say what they want to hear. I am not very good at understanding those subtle differences in meaning.

9. What personality characteristic do you find the most off-putting or irritating in others?

10. How would you like to be remembered by those you care about.
Alive and kicking. Who would want to be remembered as a corpse!? But I guess I’ll be remembered mostly by my writings. I still hope to become a successful writer one day.

11. What is your favourite holiday destination?
Let me repeat that partially – I have noticed that this is what a lot of people do when you ask them a question – my favourite holiday destination? ‘Yes, your favourite holiday destination’. Well, I haven’t been to many places and most of what I know from the world I know from books and pictures and stories. India sounds nice, so does Japan or China. One of those countries I guess. But it will have to wait till I’m older and richer.

Dear Lydia, thank you for nominating me for this award. I hope this answers your questions. Keep on blogging in a free world, because I like your style. 

Kindest of regards,



*Nina Simone (gotta love her)

The Storyteller

14-04-2014 Monday

So, this morning I woke up, got ready for school, only to find out holiday had started. I guess last night’s events really messed up my brains. When I got downstairs, Mum was sitting there wondering why I was dressed for school. I was wondering why she hadn’t made any breakfast. I quickly changed, Mum made me some breakfast, we walked the dog together and afterwards Mum took me to Oxford Street to buy some new clothes for me as ‘summer is just round the corner’. Maybe she should tell that to mother nature, because obviously she hasn’t got a clue which season it is at this moment.
Today is not about going shopping with Mum. Today is about me and not about my ‘adventures’. Well, maybe it’s not even about me, but more about the people behind me. I’ve been getting some great responses to my writing skills and I feel it’s not really fair to take all the credit. Some of us are really gifted at playing the guitar (I’ve been trying for some time now, but I feel that it’s going to take years before I’ve really mastered this skill), some are good at playing football, and others are really great at painting. I guess I am talented at writing (just don’t expect to see me at Britain’s Got Talent or anything). I’d like to take this opportunity to thank some of my teachers as I feel that they deserve a lot of the credit that has been given to me.
Mind you, I’m not really talking about the teachers at school even though they taught me how to hold a pen and write letters, words and sentences and I am thankful for that, too. We’ve all had teachers at school we liked or disliked. School is not the only place of learning. Actually, I find school the dullest place on earth to learn much of anything, if any real learning takes place there at all. There are some great teachers out there for those who are willing to see, for those who are brave enough to listen and for those who are keen on learning. I talk of great books that deserve reading (and mostly between the lines), films that need to be seen, songs to be heard and great people you should take a liking to.
‘The best place by the fire was kept for the storyteller.’ In this case it was Mum reading me bedtime stories. My first love was for fairy tales, but not the Disney ones, mind you. I read Grimm’s fairy tales for they are truly sublime. Most often they’re not only wonderful tales you’re reading, they’re valuable life lessons. The same goes for stories by Roald Dahl, A.A. Milne, Lewis Caroll, Sue Townsend, Frank Baum, Douglas Adams, and George Orwell. I know that a lot of my fellow pupils at school have read some of their books (just some), but I wonder if they have really read them or read them just for the sake of reading. There’s a difference, you know, and if you don’t, I guess that just proves me right.
The opening of the paragraph above was a quote, but not just any quote. I am a big fan of Jim Henson’s. This quote came from one of his less popular TV-series called ‘The Storyteller’. Jim is also behind some great films, like ‘Labyrinth’ (not to be mistaken for ‘Pan’s Labyrinth’, also a great film, but not quite the same). I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve seen that one and I still can’t get enough of it. Each time I see something new and I try to memorize more of the lines. Sometimes I quote the film at school just to see who’s also seen it (nobody so far). There’s also something about old black and white films and TV-series like ‘The Addams Family’, ‘Laurel and Hardy’ ‘Charlie Chaplin’ and one of my favourite old films ‘The Odd Couple’.
‘It’s time to play the music’. I don’t know whether I should feel blessed or cursed for having parents who listen to eighties and nineties music. I guess it’s a blessing, at least in those days songs actually had lyrics. I happen to like to sing along to songs (even though I can’t sing). Lyrics (as well as poems) have really shown me the power of words and they have taught me how less can really be more. My love for lyrics grew even more when my Dutch friend let me listen to things like Primus, Tom Waits, Tori Amos and a not very well-known musician called Geoff Berner. If only my classmates would stop listening to all that electronic disco and start listening to songs with great lyrics, their English might just improve a little (I’m not going to go into what I feel rap-music has done to my peers’ language).
So, ‘hats off to all the ones who stood before me and taught a fool to rhyme’ – Les Claypool

See me tomorrow.

The Walking Wikipedia Encyclopaedia

31-03-2014 Monday

Thanks for all the birthday wishes everybody. To paraphrase one of my favourite authors,’ A frabjous day. Callooh! Callay! I chortled in my joy.’ (L. Carroll)

Unice came round yesterday to ask what all the noise was about. She said it had kept her out of her sleep. Dad said,’ Great!’ and closed the door. Sometimes he makes me feel proud of him. Then the phone rang and it was Unice again who said she was going to call the police. Either she didn’t call them (very unlikely) or there was not much the police could do (very likely) as we haven’t seen them so far. I guess they’ve got Caller ID.
Mr Bent came over this evening. Mum did invite him to the party last Saturday, but – being Mr Bent – he more or less declined. If I were him I would have done the same. Mum saved a piece of pie for him. I asked her to save a piece with a candle on it and so she did. She even saved a big piece for me, but I asked her to cut it in half, because then it’s only half the calories. You know I am still on my diet. Besides, when it’s only half the calories, I can eat twice as much. It’s a win/win situation.
By the way, Mr Bent won the prize. I don’t know if you remember, but the birthday decorations said I turned 14 while I actually turned 15 today. We had not removed all of the decorations yet, because we wanted to wait after today. Mum and Dad were a bit embarrassed they hadn’t noticed it, not even after three days. They probably won’t forget that I’m turning 16 next year. Maybe I could do without the decorations then, they seemed a bit childish this year, especially with Grandma doing her striptease act on the kitchen table. That was quite a contrast. I gave Mr Bent the other half of my piece of pie as a prize. He got me all sorts of guitar books (see picture). If he’s into these bands, he’s got quite a good taste for music.ImageRon D. – the walking Wikipedia Encyclopaedia at school – reminded the class of the fact that today was my birthday and so everybody started singing. I wish they hadn’t done that. Even though I liked the gesture, it was completely out of tune, some of the kids had no rhythm and Mrs Hoover nearly lost her dentures. A woman her age shouldn’t be allowed to teach anymore, or to sing for that matter. Though she’s a lovely woman, she’s falling apart. She’s 64 and looks 78. Don’t ask me how she’s done that, I don’t think anybody’s interested in her little secret. Coincidentally her first name is Victoria; so us pupils have started calling it Victoria’s Secret (please, don’t tell her that).
Evelyn gave me a big birthday kiss at school this morning. I turned red, but it was really cute. I think we’re a cute couple. Mum and Dad said she was really pretty. Dad was really impressed, I could tell. He hadn’t expected that … me neither. I’m going to do my best to hold on to her for as long as I can. That’s it for now, because we’re about to get rid of the last birthday decorations. See me tomorrow. 

Hide Your Kids. Hide your wife!

29-03-2014 Saturday
30-03-2014 Sunday

It’s half past two in the morning and we’re just about to finish cleaning up the mess. I asked Mum if I could go to bed as I was deadbeat. I am deadbeat, but I just wanted to write one or two words about the party while it’s still fresh in my memory. Although I don’t approve of binge drinking, I think some people drank to little to be able to forget about the discomforting things they did. And here I am eternalizing these moments on paper, aren’t I the best!?
Let’s start with these embarrassing moments just to get that out of the way. Grandma had brought her own liquor, because we never buy her the ‘good stuff’. Mum made her promise she wouldn’t drink before dinner, Grandma made up for that by drinking half of the bottle after the last bite she took. Before too long she was doing a striptease on the kitchen table. But only after Jonesy had announced his divorce. I think it all had some sort of causal relationship, but I’m not sure. I got that idea when I heard Dad shout out,’ Finally, we’re getting rid of that stuck-up (bad word).’ I believe this is where Nora – the ex-wife to be – stole Grandma’s whisky bottle and drank the other half.
I feel kind of sorry for their daughters: Kaylee and Lucy. Though we don’t have a lot in common and we hardly ever speak to each other, I wonder whom they are going to live with. If their mum is going to be an alcoholic it might not be the best of choices to go and live with her. They are too young to move out – they are about my age – and their dad does not know how to raise these kids. Last year he let them go to school in their pyjamas, because he thought it was what kids wore nowadays.
Besides that Kaylee and Lucy are spoiled rotten. They get almost everything they want and often get it right away. I bet that after the divorce they get everything double. They always brag about all that they have and poke fun at people who don’t dress according to the latest fashion and who don’t watch the series they are watching. Obviously the shows they watch are cool and everything else is just ‘rubbish’. It’s a pity that they don’t show any sign of intelligence. I believe it took them three years to learn to breathe.
Luckily Evelyn didn’t have to witness all this. Evelyn had to be home before dinner, so she was saved from embarrassment. I’m not going to tell her anything about it. I think I can get away with leaving out those moments and I don’t think anybody in my family will bring it up soon. The only weird thing I had to explain was why Grandma kept calling me Ivor (I do hope you still remember). Evelyn thought it was quite funny and she found it a nice nickname. I just don’t hope she’s going to call me that; I’m not a cat, I’m a ferocious lion, hear me roar!
Now for the best part. This is Arthur doing the dance of joy and singing, quite out of tune,’ I got a guitar!’ I don’t know how Mum and Dad did it, but they bought me a guitar and kept it a secret for weeks. I’m so happy I could cry. I’m not going to, because I’m a lion. Instead I’ll just roar a little. Roar.

Okay, so I had written thus far when I fell asleep last night. It is Sunday now. I woke up at half past eleven and stayed in bed till half past twelve. That’s when I felt it was really time to have a shower and start my day. Mum and Grandma had already been to church, but Mum refused to tell me anything about it. I might call Grandma to ask her about what happened. Talking about Grandma. She gave me two tickets to the London Underground yesterday and said she was wondering why I wanted these for my birthday. ‘London Dungeon, Grandma! The Dungeons!’ I’ll try again next year.
Evelyn was really sweet; she had even bought a present for me. She gave me a T-shirt with a drawing on it that she had made. In the picture you see me thinking of Evelyn who’s thinking of me. And she had the original framed with her signature on it and all. I asked her to sign the shirt, too, just in case she might become famous or something. I think I’m going to hang them both on my wall. I don’t want to wear the shirt out, plus, I think wearing it might draw too much attention to us at school and we don’t really like to be in the spotlights.
I’m going to work on my guitar skills today. I tried it a little yesterday, but it’s really hard. My other relatives gave me all sorts of stuff to go with the guitar: some books with guitar lessons, strings, plectrums, tuner, etc. I feel like a rock star already. Maybe I should think of a good stage name or a band name. Crud, I see Unice coming … Hide your kids, hide your wife, she’s gonna find you! Run! Bye, see me tomorrow. 

Queen Anne’s Revenge

27-03-2014 Thursday

‘The world is my lobster.’ I kind of liked the proverb, except I couldn’t find a way of fitting it into today’s blog in any sensible way. Actually, come to think of it, I’ve never heard anybody use the proverb in everyday life so far. Obviously I’m not the only one who can’t fit it in properly. Is it being used in literature at all? Come to think of it, I have the feeling proverbs are getting more and more a thing of the past. Am I the only one? I think I’ll try my best to give this proverb and others some more attention in my writings.
It’s going to be a short story today, because I spent my time writing something else which I’ll tell you about in a minute (or two, depends on how fast you are reading). For some reason we started talking about pirates today during history class. Don’t ask me how we came to talk about that, because I was not really paying attention. I was reading a note Evelyn had sent me about this weekend. It read that she was looking forward to meeting my family and that I shouldn’t worry about it too much. Truth is that I just have no idea what to expect from Dad, he has a knack for embarrassing me using only a handful of words and a stupid look.
Anyways, we were talking about pirates (well, the teacher was) and when I got home I looked up some information on one of the most famous pirates I know of: Blackbeard. I didn’t even know he was British and that he was probably named Edward Teach and one of his ships was called Queen Anne’s Revenge. Why don’t we get taught more of these things at school? Why are we always stuck with the boring bits of history? This Blackbeard story inspirited me to write some lyrics (which is why today’s story is so short). Here is my go at writing lyrics, too bad I’m not a musician.  


Queen Anne’s Revenge

We’ll set sail just as soon as the winds are right
If the wind won’t come we’ll be here for the night
So, drink up me hearties, yo ho
Drink up me hearties, yo ho

Ninety men were killed but we won’t shed a tear
‘Cause they weren’t ours and we know no fear
So, drink up me hearties, yo ho
Drink up me hearties, yo ho

Queen Anne’s Revenge and her forty guns
With a well-aimed shot she will burn your buns
So, drink up me hearties, yo ho
Drink up me hearties, yo ho

We’ve got rum, we’ve got beer
All the pirates are here
There is nothing to fear tonight
Edward teach us a song
So we can all sing along
We’ll sing all through the night

And Edward stood up
As he raised his cup
His voice booming mighty low
We’ll set sail just as soon as the winds are right
If the wind won’t come we’ll be here for the night
So, drink up me hearties, yo ho

When the band joined in
They all started to sing

We’ll set sail just as soon as the winds are right
If the wind won’t come we’ll be here for the night
So, drink up me hearties, yo ho

And before too long
They all sang his song

We’ll set sail just as soon as the winds are right
If the wind won’t come we’ll be here for the night
So, drink up me hearties, yo ho
Drink up me hearties, yo ho


That’s it, I’m off to bed. See me tomorrow. 

Charlotte Campbell Rocks The World


23-01-2014 Thursday




Maybe there’s a poet hiding deep inside all of us, or maybe just deep inside of me. I don’t know. Yesterday was my first serious attempt of writing lyrics to an unwritten song. As I don’t play any musical instruments, it will probably just be lyrics to unwritten songs for as long as I’ll live. Mum does not want me to learn to play any instruments, because she does not want the agony of having to listen to me rehearse. Besides that I think Mum hates music altogether. We used to have a neighbour who practised playing the violin and Mum said it sounded like a cat’s tail had got stuck in the door. Can I blame that neighbour for ruining one of my dreams? Thanks neighbour!


The reason I decided to write some lyrics is, weirdly enough, also because of Mum. Although I do not think she realizes it. The other day she came home from a visit at Foyles down at South Bank and she said she’d seen this lovely girl playing the guitar and singing to it. As Mum thought I would have probably enjoyed it, she decided to buy the CD (cold comfort for not letting me learn to play my own instruments). The name of the girl is Charlotte Campbell and the album is called Blue Eyed Soul. The girl is really pretty and I like her voice. Too bad Mum didn’t take me to Foyles. I would have liked listening to Charlotte and I could do with some more books as well.


Talking about books. Today I went back to school, because I felt well enough, but I knew I should have stayed at home. We have to read a Shakespearian play. Even though I really like reading, I don’t like reading at all. I mean, I don’t like the books school comes up with. I’d rather read books like the one I told you about by Alex Boese. Way more interesting than some boring old play by a dead guy who probably didn’t even write the plays himself, because he was too busy dating women. Nuff said.

I’m drifting away from the subject, aren’t I? So, as I said, Mum came home with this CD and it really inspired me to write my own things. Maybe one day I’ll learn to play an instrument and then I could write my own music to the lyrics. I’m not much of a singer; I’ve got the voice of a thousand monkeys (that’s what Dad always says when he hears me singing under the shower). Till the day comes I can play the bass, the guitar, the drums or whatever, I’ll probably have to wait till some musicians come knocking on my door to ask me if I would like to write their lyrics for them or if they could use the ones I’ve already got. That’s it and that’s that. See me tomorrow.