Psychedelic Cheek

 

He’s the epitome of bravado

In his sunshine yellow suit

His shirt is avocado

And his after shave is Brut.

 

With his round handled black umbrella

And his bright green kipper tie

He’s quite a unique fella

A dashing kind of guy.

 

He’s become a local landmark

Parading Chorlton’s streets

He’s never been to Primark

He has psychedelic chic.

 

In a drizzly grey precinct

He surely draws some stares,

He’s certainly distinct

In his orange spandex flares.

 

I wonder what his eye sees

Through his purple Lennon shades

The Grateful Dead or Bee Gees

In his mind never fade.

 

Adored by all the lasses

Some say he’s just a freak

But beneath his round mauve glasses

Are psychedelic cheeks.

 

He’s a Glastonbury relic

Dug up and brought up here

From the age of old Tom Selleck

In his stylish dayglo gear.

 

Some may think that with his brolly

He’s really out of place

Some think that he’s a wally

Some nudge and comment Golly

Or think his style is folly

But he’s a special case.

 

They say his sweet aroma

Will mask all stench or reek

From lead station down to Croma

He has psychedelic chic.

 

Some say his mind is frazzled

By acid, pot, bad trips

But he has always dazzled

Has swagger in his hips.

 

Now Chorlton’s got some claims to fame

Bee Gees to name but three

Badly Drawn Boy, Shaun Ryder,

But none well drawn as he.

 

I wish my nerve was stronger

And I wasn’t such a geek

I wish I had half his balls

Beside his bare faced cheeks.

 

A legend in his lifetime

We’ll praise him for a week

And he is Mr Chorlton,

He’s got psychedelic chic.

 

M x