Sean was born near Durham on 29th September 1954, the second of six children born to Ena and Jack Hewitson.  
As a former pupil of Chester-le Street Grammar, he developed a passion for cricket, playing on the school team and at club level for his local village team (Kibblesworth). 
Another great love of his life, from childhood until the day he died, was his beloved Sunderland football club, about which Sean became a world authority. 
Sunderland AFC were no strangers to Sean’s opinions on how they managed the club.  He regularly let them know when he felt they had done something wrong, 
but would also be the first to congratulate them on a win or a right move in the boardroom. Sean cherished his first red and white Sunderland scarf, given to him on his fifth birthday. 
The scarf accompanied Sean to many matches, before becoming a permanent fixture draped with pride from a cupboard door in his living room. Sean took his scarf with him 
on his final journey. 

Sean’s dedication to his team extended to the research and development of an extensive database in which he stored the details of every game played at the club since it opened 
in the late 1800’s. 

When Sean left school he went to work as a clerical officer at the DSS in Longbenton but soon became disenchanted with what he saw as a mindless, bureaucratic system.
So he left and in 1990 received his Bachelor’s degree in Government and Public Policy from Northumbria University. Always one for doing his bit to fight the system, his dissertation 
for this degree was on the old inner city land marks of Newcastle, and argued against them all being destroyed in the name of progress. Sensing that he also needed a qualification 
that would actually provide him with a salary, he later gained a Masters degree in Softwear Engineering and worked with the NHS and later SAGE as a systems developer. 
In his spare time, he continued to keep Mr Cousins, his local councillors and the traffic warden’s office very much on their toes.

Sean’s greatest passion in life was, by far, his love of music. From being in his teens, Sean played guitar in bands including Breathing Space and English Disease, performing at gigs 
throughout the North East and at The Round House in London. He gave solo performances during the Tall Ships event and at Morden Tower in 1985. Above all else, Sean defined 
himself as a musician. Shortly before his death, he encapsulated this in the response he gave to a doctor who enquired about his profession,Sean replied, “My occupation is as a 
soft wear engineer, but I am a musician”. Sean was a self-taught musician and played many different instruments. He was also a prolific writer of lyrics. These lyrics form the 
content of this anthology, many of which Sean put to music and recorded as three CD collections of him singing and playing his own work.  

This anthology has been entitled “The man who came last”, as this was Sean’s favourite lyric, and has been put together as a tribute to the memory of a much loved and truly missed son, 
brother, uncle and friend.
 

                                        


	
			THE MAN WHO CAME LAST
	
			Damned is the soul of the man who came last
			Who stole from his future
			To pay for his past
			Who waited and watched while the choices were sane
			Only to grasp at the last that remained
			Who witnessed the worst of the man who came first
			Who made the mistakes from which knowledge was nursed
			But the taste of temptation remains as a curse
			On the soul of the man who came last





click on the tilte to listen. English Disease, Music by Sean

Words are so diverse
I can but fail to look for meaning
Words
A subtle tool to take a fool for a cleaning

Yell of pain beyond words
Acatalepsy
Still can never be heard
Acatalepsy

Watch
She with her poise engage a boy's desired affection
Catch me if you can
A flash of light
A mere reflection

Yell of pain beyond words
Acatalepsy
Still can never be heard
Acatalepsy

Any friend of lucidity is no friend of mine
Who will burst his bubble
It happens all the time
And it happens to be true

Words are wearing thin
And falling into morning papers
Morals
Well rehearsed
Carefully versed
There for the takers

Yell of pain beyond words
Acatalepsy
Still can never be heard
Acatalepsy

Any friend of lucidity has not seen the sign
Has no power to create
Words come at their time
And it happens to be true



THE REAL WORLD

Let's pretend that we're living in the real world
Overspend
Buy a future in the real world
Time is money
Ain't got no money ain't got no time
It's no use standing with your hands in your pockets
Saying " Who am I ?, Who am I ?, Who am I ? "

Let's pretend that we know all the answers
Comprehend
Be aware of all our chances
Got no questions ain't got no problems
Got peace of mind
It's no use kneeling with your eye to the keyhole
As you wonder 'why I wonder'
I wonder why I wonder why I wonder

Let's pretend that the world is full of laughter
Let's pretend that we'll be happy ever after
Ain't nobody ain't got no body
Ain't got no head
It's no use living with a mind full of hate
And saying " Love is dead. Love is dead. Love is dead."
Because love is dead



WATCH WITH MOTHER

Was it Bill or was it Benn that cracked the opposition bell
The ring of truth had seemed to be unsound
Chameleon true blue messiah
Dopler shifts to red pariah
Kindly send the black mariah round

Look at the great divide
Isn't it very wide?

War presents two points of view
One you hold in spite of you
But immanent the grip of fear is strong
Numbered by the patriarch
Shout denials in Hyde Park
Supplement the murmur to the throng

Think of those men in holes
How could they be so cold?



IN THE POORHOUSE

I give you kisses but it's never enough
All of my wishes
But it's never enough for you
It's never enough

I give you honey but it's never enough
All of my money
But it's never enough for you
It's never enough

You see and you lust
You try
And you must buy 'cause you want it so bad
But soon it's a chore
You're tired
And you're bored
And you're wanting what you never had
And look who's in the poorhouse now
Lord, I'm in the poorhouse now

I give you praise but it's never enough
I give you space
But it's never enough for you
It's never enough

I gave you my heart
I gave you my soul
But always you stayed unfulfilled
And when I was spent 
You upped and you went
And you left me to pick up the bill
And look who's in the poorhouse now
Lord, I'm in the poorhouse now



A WASTE OF TIME

Over the doorstep
And onto the street
Going the long way
Dragging his feet
Joining at the end of the line
But it's a waste of time

All of his friends are there in the queue
He stands where his dad stood
His grandfather too
For generations down the line
It's been a waste of time

Standing on corners
Sitting in rows
Hunkered in circles in the classical pose
The victims of a capital crime
And it's a waste of time

One more application
The writer cramps
Folding the paper
Licking the stamps
And he knows not to expect a reply
It's a waste of time

Standing on corners
Sitting in rows
Hunkered in circles in the classical pose
The victims of a capital crime
It's a waste of time



THE LONG TERM UNEMPLOYED STIGMA BLUES

You make it hard to talk to you
When you see yourself as what you do
When you look at me and you see right through
I get the long term unemployed stigma blues

Are you looking for a shell
Asked the snail of the slug
Like I'm carrying a hole that he needs to plug
And I hate that smug, complacent ooze
And the long term unemployed stigma blues

And I'm much too old and I'm way too fat
To dance the Finnish Tango with a bureaucrat
Because I've been through that and I lost my muse
To those long term unemployed stigma blues

The long term unemployed stigma blues
Gnawing away inside of you
You can't get work
And you can't get used
To those long term unemployed stigma blues

And I'm making it hard to live with me
When I'm full of resentment and self-pity
Seems there ain't no way that I can lose
These long term unemployed stigma blues



THE ONLY PASSENGER

I see you
You don't see me
Or what I see through

Doctor, if I told you that I was so confused
I've reached the point
Where even I can't bear to live with myself
Would you prescribe me a vacation
From this un-united nation
In view of my donations to the National Health

Do you diagnose the symptoms of a manic depressive
Or is it that I've simply lost my mind
I see what is beauty 
I see what is want
But it's inept to call allusion what I find

I see you
You don't see me
Or what I see through
I see you 
You don't see me
You don't see why I want to be the only passenger
With a first class ticket
On a one way rocket through the universe
A one way rocket to a distant constellation 
No pre-set destination
No brake
And no reverse

Alpha Centauri
Beta Endorfin
Outer space
Spaced out
I don't really care
I've got a place to find
I've got a place in mind
I've got to find an atmosphere
Somewhere

I see you
You don't see me
Or what I see through
I see you 
You don't see me
You don't see why I want to be the only passenger
With a first class ticket
On a one way rocket through the universe
A one way rocket to a distant constellation 
It's the ultimate sensation for the craven and perverse

I see you 
You don't see me
I see you
You don't see



DOWN HERE

Down here
Everyone knows their own name
Down here
We're different but always the same
Down here
We're so stupid
We don't even know which way we came
Around here they're looking for someone to blame
And they find you
Playing a pawn in the game
Down here
We're so stupid
We don't even need a ball and chain

Call me
I'll forward a motion
To care
Stall me
Show me the need to despair
I saw you with your dictionary
Trying to redefine your share
Around here everyone breathes the same air
They find you 
Muddling through
Unaware
Down here
We're so stupid
We don't always see what's really there
Around here everyone's going nowhere
They go
Round and round and round and round
Round and round and round and round
Round and round and round and round
And round