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Dorian Turning Grey

On the road to San Jose
Dorian is turning grey
All the roads had ended at ’67; now he only has one role to play

Glorious still in his own mind, he sees the past
His long hair blazing in the sun
On the path to another clichéd, weather-beaten hippie run
And it’s the same one that comes round, time after time after time
He walks in circles clenching memories, time after, time after time 
It demands no fees
He sees the crooks and the squares in everyone and dreams
Of the days when the Stones played Hyde Park and won

Tenuous are his persuasions about peace and apathy
Strenuous his being out of touch
‘Cause once he crashed through a hall of mirrors
Into this dimension and onto this crutch

Careful I don't catch you moralising, Dorian
It’s a self-deluding dude who lays down to rest, and you're the one
The world is not a fair with the squares behind the stalls
And the freaks on the rides larking to be one, but you're not listening, you just dream
Dream of the day when the Stones played Hyde Park and won

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