Summits: baby boomers and rock tours

Summits: baby boomers and rock tours

Zero emissions,

They chime

In air-conditioned rooms

Clinking glasses

Filled with ice, chilled in industrial

Freezers

Scotch imported from Scotland

Michelin starred Canapes

Consumed in one bite

Whilst the band plays on

Having flown in from Europe

Someone dies with

Every click of the fingers

Strangers lie

Under the Joshua tree

On a street with no name

Who pays the taxman

When loopholes

Sieve out the incentive

To intercede

On behalf of the people

Welcome to the machine

It is a haven

For the movers and shakers

In carbon offset

Have a cigar

Hand-rolled by robots

With the face of an angel

Any colour you like

So many fat cats

Were once filled with ideals

They liked Pink Floyd

From Ummagumma

To the wall

Teacher leave our kids alone

Let them see the wood

And keep the trees

There is no dark side

To wanting the moon

To keep rising

Here comes the sun

Is not a torch song

Give peace a chance

Not just an anthem

Wish you were here

Is more than an invitation

It is a reminder

Of what we need to care for

When high hopes

Is more than an old rock song

By an archaic band

Of travelling musicians

And politicians

In search of bloke culture

Who suck the whisky dry

Before the world chokes

On its excess.