I can feel summer at last from the heat The evening light pulls a veil of linen In the sleeping Vale of Evesham Lies a shady town in market garden land The abbey, demonic and provoking I have laid across its stones The back street pub where Bowie sang While the boys in the back room Pumped heroin into their veins The girls, my friends determined Pregnant by unknown fathers by fourteen The tramp we thought we killed The transport cafe from which We'd steal our golden dreams Have disappeared just flowers on their graves Born with broken hearts yes, Thank you world for my crucufied icons Lovers of the impossible dream T.V.'s suicides, mass sacrifice We're just buzzing in the hive