In ballroom, catacomb, crypt and cellar, institute and social club,

teenage tribe seeks youthful pleasure, dance sweaty beat in backstreet pub


Explosions far off in the distance, portent of change and seismic shift,

the past now struggles to define us, in truth it’s always been like this


We danced the frenzied dance of youth while summer drifted on unseen,

time had trapped us in the present, exiled from what once had been


Righteous indignation followed, snapping at our dancing feet

deconsecrated ground now taken over by rock-steady beat


Some speak in tongues of past persuasion, ‘our kingdom come thy will be done,’

but in the Holy Church of Music, the new religion has begun


Aretha says a little prayer somewhere in a crowded room,

while parents dance, ‘quick, quick slow,’ to an old forgotten tune


The expectations of our fathers’ sanctimonious rock and roll

could not deliver our salvation, burning bridges charge no toll.


At night we danced with heartbeats pounding rhythm, sleep won’t come,

life is just a call to arms, a battle to be fought and won  


Church bells peel in protest as the week-end disappears from view

the body-politic now reincarnate as The Human Zoo


Like caged animals we lounge languid, teeth and claws now nullified

distorted mirrors in the House of Fun, deserted stalls and Dodgem ride


Carousing on the Carousel with friends soon to be left behind

the Tunnel of Love closed for repair, as the August sun declined


We watched the night time getting longer, candle burning from both ends

morning came to find us waiting for the beat to start again


We revelled in our mystic madness, measured by loves profligacy

determined not to ask the question, ‘do your parents know of me’?










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