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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