I drink my Singha,
watching the girls ship by.
Feel the breeze pass too.
Green palms, purple sky.
There's a wild-parrot
gives me the eye.
A sandy lizard
I can see go run,
here in the cool-shade,
from a very-hot sun.
She shakes her hair, shakes her firm ass.
It's Alice and her band The Looking-Glass.
The girls in the crowd shake their own butts.
The boys in the crowd go out their nuts.
The whole gig, the whole show's a gas.
Psychedelic sights and sounds, one undergone,
will leave the kids something to reflect upon.