Named after the Pogues song, partly because the square forms remind me of paving slabs and gutters, and the messy marks conjure up the grease and grime of Soho circa 1985 – wind and litter swirling round, but always with a touch of seedy glamour...
 
“Sometimes I wake up in the morning / the ginger lady by my bed” – is the ginger lady a bottle of whisky? That would link up with the last verse that I’ve always loved: "Now the song is nearly over / We may never find out what it means / Still there's a light I hold before me / You're the measure of my dreams / The measure of my dreams.”