Where The Spine Meets The Head

I wrote this song in response to an event in my childhood. My Dad wrote a short piece about it, which some of the words are lifted from. You need to read it.

Maybe one day my brother will make a chainsaw sculpture of it and my sister and animation. Until then you’ll have to make do with a snow sculpture of Anne Boleyn and her dog watching an execution.

It’s a bit like “there’s a hole in my bucket” only not at all: