David Houlden
I did not know him very well,
We lived so far away,
His Father was my Father's son,
It seems like yesterday.

He loved jazz, I liked it too
and Pearl loved it as well
There were many records on his shelves,
But now he's heard the bell.

I did not know that he liked 'Folk'
Until one day he said
There's a place I'd like to take you to,
They call it Nettlebed

I met so many people there,
Their names I'll never yield
One was named Geoff Godfrey
And another was Dave Field.

Dave Field had a sonorous voice
A melodeon played he
Whilst Godfrey, hand around his ear,
Sang 'foreign tongues' to me!

Another was John Lawrenson
Who came from very far
From Scotland, I believe it was
He played Celtic Guitar

I've sung in places round the world
But there's one place in my head
Where friendship semed to fill the air -
That place was Nettlebed

I wonder if the club still 'runs'
In that old Bull Hotel
And if those singers still perform
I'm sure they do it well!

So, David, I still think of you
As you stood up there singing
With all the people joining in
And all the rafters ringing

You wrote some songs, still sung today
That surely can't be wrong
Your memory, then, will never die
We'll remember you by song.
RIP