A summer festival in the British Isles.
We are on the Wickerman summer festival site. It could one of the many held all over these British isles
People throwing litter eyes open bright as head lights. A constant hum of generators and diesel golf buggies,
medics, techies, crew management, police, security,, criss-crossing, criss-crossing, criss-crossing..
The engine throb of the thrill giving fairground attractions all night is shyte, do you wanna go faster, this is the one, generate, EXLR8,
your hard earned cash while you’re mashed isn’t extortionate. Bungee yourself into the sky, when you’re high, can you fly,
Can you fuck but I wish you could be catapulted into another time.
Fairground attraction as bright as you are with screaming girls, You are nothing but the fast food burger bar of the entertainment world.
Full of promise, full of chocolate, chewing gum, coin, puke and spit.
Profiteering from the bahhhrrrr lambs of this, whooooaaaa, lookout she’s gonna hurl vomit!
You can’t pay for a thrill. All these come free.
Falling in love, helping the struggling woman, playing the drum or having a pee singing,
“Thank you tree, thank you tree for being in the right place, this time for me”
These are joys and thrills yet all the while I watch you discard your trash, smashed, upside down emptied, XLR8-ed, exterminated of all you spare cash.
In a beautiful countryside setting .. Oh what a thing farming of the land has become.
All the while the noise of generators and diesel golf buggies
criss-crossing, criss-crossing, criss-crossing.