I'd rather be in Glastonbury
With shops and venues all around
Where talk of arcane mystery
And magic practices abound.
The Seers, they show sincerity -
Through actions their beliefs are shown.
Exploiting their philosophy
Commercially is rarely known.
Psychic and crystal therapies
Should cleanse the body and the soul.
Come charge your chakra energies;
With holy chants, the mind control.
Can balance up the Yang and Yin.
But meditation on ley lines
Might be the best place to begin.
Close towers the ancient, mystic Tor -
The Avalon of Arthur's tale
Where J of A, for Jesus saw
Concealment of the Holy Grail.
Wearyall Hill sired The Thorn Tree
Where J of A, his staff thrust down.
That sacred stick thus proved to be
Raised from a thorn of Jesus' crown.
And what of Arthur and his wife?
They lie within the Abbey walls.
One day he will return to life
When crisis comes, and England calls.
(This Country's in a mess right now -
There's no sign of King Arthur, yet!
Before he comes to prove his vow,
How bad's he gonna let it get?)
These truths are vouched by every seer
Who might request your secrecy
That Rudolf, The Red-Nosed Reindeer,
Resides with them in Glastonbury.
I argue New Age thoughts to be
Just castles in the air that seem
Aimed to escape reality.
But why not live in a fine dream?
All faiths and ideologies
Build castles high up in the sky.
Some kill for their philosophies
And lack the insight to ask why.
Most New Age thought is just as daft
As old religions can relate.
But it's a pleasant kind of 'daft'
Not used as an excuse for hate.
One day, belief might pass away.
We'll face the cold, harsh world outside.
But while we all await that day
Most need a gentle place to hide.
When real world issues leave us low,
Why not inhabit fantasy?
Some day I might just choose to go,
And live a myth at Glastonbury.