Pack up, pack up and go home!

Good Morning,
         Yawning,
                   Waking,
                             Breaking,
                                       Eurgh, it's day again.


My eyes are rusted shut,
My mouth an ashtray,
It's always time to quit.

I sit and say good bye as the final hours drag and have my last supper from the crew caf.

The festival is dying.

The ecstatic flagpoles are stripped of their colour and butchered into scaffold once again.
Their beauty, once radiant, is folded away and forgotten until next year.
Next year, next year... “I'll see you again next year” I shout.
I won't, neither of us will be here.
No one on this circuit can sit still apart from when they're driving their live in motor from town to town.
No point making arrangements more than two weeks in the future lest they 'gan aft aglay'.

Land rover after land rover leave site delivering transportless hippies to the next field in the middle of nowhere, ready to do it all again.
But I don't know if I am,
I think I want a home...
A soft bed,
A draught pint,
A friend I've known for more than a week.

But now I'm on a train and I want to make the pin stripes pin cushions!
The shaven faces and non-greasy hair!
The fucking chatter about big money deals spreading unanalysed and unjustified prejudice like a virus down the phone.
Back into a world of stereotypes and social stigma!
Did I miss this???

Yes...

Sort of...

I mean, I didn't miss it as in a sense of longing,
I missed it as in I didn't see it.
You can never look yourself directly in the eyes and I was a cog in the clockwork of mundane existence.
But I took some time off in Sam's Furnace
And poured myself over a field.

Now I'm not the uniform useful thing I was when I left and I don't think the machine will want me.
That's okay though, I don't want the machine.

Yes, there's beauty in synergy but synergy is achievable without uniformity
And without bludgeoning young raw material into useful forms.

When people live free from fear,
From peer pressure, stress and high expectations,
They form shapes more intricate and beautiful than any moulding process could hope to achieve.

I think,
What I want to do,
Is go back to the other cogs and show them,

         “There is another way!”