What's not to fancy?

 
I never did like this stage,
all day-glo colours,
for the frightened straights,
who'll never go squatting,
or sign on for a decade or three.

 
I preferred,
the subtle shades of a pre Raphaelite Stonehenge dawn,
hashish, acid,
feeling stoned and placid.
 
The new age is looking for the homeless to play with.

 
Just witter on about the May,
jingle your jangles,
don't smash down the fences,
or spray up the citadel walls.
 
I suppose I was looking for a home,
we all are.

 
They'll be giving tarot cards away with weetabix,
as we become refugees
in the new flooded Earth.

 
These aren't the end days.

 
~