A trip to Norfolk.
 
 
 
Sped down the M6
and bounced round the A11,
two freaks looking for a holiday heaven.
 
Arrived at the camp,
all white huts, slightly damp,
opened the widows to let in the sun;
let the fun begin.
 
Saw the place for retired chickens,
shire horses and strawberry girls,
as green as a free orchard,
all roundelay and twirls.
 
It is changing and youth,
is coming to save us,
stand by the truth,
the cosmic eternity of Ruth.
 
Today it's Great Yarmouth
and a pottery,
very hot and tottery;
walked the pound shop golden mile,
lottsa girls and matrons,
past the stations.
 
To the golden sand,
donkey rides and pier dreams,
lottsa love is seen,
waiting for the eternal band.
 
Then to a Sainsbury's art shed,
a spaceship from the 1970's,
full of before Christ
and a dayglow green splash of Hockney.
 
Saw some tigers,
that I wanted to set free,
in a plain forest and savannah;
went on a boat on an island sea.
 
Great dreams here,
saw Dostoevsky,
art is long, life is short,
in the arms of the ever tree.
 
And so back to Brum,
remembering the hottest day ever
and a huge lighting storm,
oh to be dancing, glad to be born.

 

 
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