Song in B Flat

Do you remember the days when we
made paper rainbows in the afternoon
The times before the fall
Before the lizards appeared
Deepthroating Hazel Blears in the House of Lords

We who tethered rationality to the floor
and let our souls fly inward
Catching images from that subconscious pool
and casting them into the fire
Who cut the wire
binding us to the earth
and who smoked ourselves
til we became the ash

We who yearned for a 1960’s liberation
and worshipped Syd Barrett
We who love Cambridge
and it’s aching rooftops
We who thought weed was sacred
and inhaled every day
Who ate mushrooms in Grantchester
and saw life as a film
Who read the Doors of Perception
while we should have been studying
Who peered at the folds in our trousers while stoned
and strained to see Huxley’s eternal Isness
Who read R.D.Laing and Castaneda
William Burroughs and Ginsberg
Who heard the calling of Dylan and Hendrix
Santana and Jim Morrison

Do you remember when we stalked Death
Walking thru a shamanic dream
in the forest of Wandlebury
The times we agreed profoundly
listening to Pink Floyd and Gong
We who killed the ego
til it took it’s revenge
Who opened the Third Eye
when we should’ve opened our Heart
Who erased our personal history
til it came flooding back
Who unlocked the messages in a sea of childhood memories
And rose to meet our fate


We who made love in the
hysterical green Garden of Eden
Who embraced in the spring
smoking spliffs in a silent jazz trance
Who communicated telepathically
with strangers in the street
Who revealed subliminal signals everywhere
and acted accordingly
Who cut thru the masquerade of society
and saw homosapian lizardmonsters

Who saw police cars every day thru the window
Who searched the internet for signs of revolution
Who stayed up all night til we broke the secret code
We who couldn’t stand materialism
and explored the places in between
We who paint graffiti at 3AM
while citizens lay sleeping
Who climbed the grand arcade crane
and looked down at the crazy world below
Who circled Reality Checkpoint
and wrote The Future Is Now on the police station
Who were arrested
for writing Reality on a door
Who were arrested
for climbing a freight train
We who tried to escape and failed

Who created a split personality
and wept in Mill Road Cemetery
Who were controlled by an electric pedal-powered witch
while playing psychotic tetris on the piano
Who imitated Christ on the cross
while the whole world watched on TV
Who shouted “More rain!”
as the cameras rolled
Who cowered before Henry the Eighths portrait
and politely asked the butler for a piece of bread
Who went to the belly of the Western beast
hijacking a piano in Trinity College Chapel
Who were slung out the back door
into the night we belong

Who ran naked in the suburban garden
and listened to the snails
Who was interrupted while meditating
by servants of the Law
Who were put in the back of a van
and ushered out of the city to Fulbourn
Who watched without emotion
while our head was rearranged

We who came from nowhere
and live there still
We who died a thousand times
but are still afraid of rebirth
We who explored paradox
and found only more paradox
We who are two and none
We who is I and All

We who retreat into silent solitude
and bring back works of beauty
We who want everything to flow
into everything else

And now, even though the questions will never cease,
I still observe Divinity in the mirror
And as I walk with my shadow
in the cold light of winter
The Divine appears in every room
speaking to me of neutrality.