It's a beautiful day for the country club
And I don't mean playing golf
It's the Brew Crew, Barney McGrew
Charlie, Billy and Rolf

Out of the van quick as you can
And make some noise with your big boys toys
As headlights are sneaking
From free ways and highways
Along ancient roads
Up green lanes and byways

It's the bush telegraph
Text message information
Just like in the movies
Location location!

Checking voicemail directions
The message is saved
The revolution won't be televised
It will be microwaved!

Microwaves from a mobile phone
But I can't say which mobile phone
And as if by magic a system appears
But I can't say which sound system

Out of the darkness the hills come alive
But I can't say which hills to you
As surreptitious cars arrive
But I can't say what, which or who

I can say that it's getting busy
Easy sleazy cheesy dizzy
People meeting beats repeating
Drugged up hugged up fleeting greeting

Housey techno trancey spacey
Parts of it are drum n bassey
Selling tea the techno tea truck
Has one enormous fluoro tea cup

Litter dropping townies
With designer attitudes
Techno gnomes and fluoro fairies
Easy geezer dudes

Oh they're all here tonight
But if you get here late
Techno techno take no notice
Of the squad car at the gate

The boys in blue don't understand
This site is still free common land
I've even seen the pigs that fly
A whirly machine up in the sky
That costs a hundred pounds a minute
And that is where our tax goes innit?

Oh please protect us from ourselves!
These nasty naughty party elves
It's free because they think it's funny
To do a party for no money

This DIY we've got to stop it
You can't just do things without profit
Who organised this? Who's in charge?
What do you mean You're all in charge?

No hierarchy?
No social divide?
It's anarchy!
Someone DECIDE!

Turn off the system
Who complained?
Where do you live
And what's your name?

Constable You can't have sent
For the man from the environment
If the locals aren't disturbed
So officer just have a word

With all the boys
And round em up
Your guvner can't be woken up
To sign that public order paper
Nice one squirrel, see ya later.

This site will not be public ordered
With some five mile exclusion zone
The sun is up, the dawn is over
We've finished now we're going home.

Ringing ears from singing tweeters
Loading up the van with speakers
Filling up our plastic bags
With bottles cans and ends of fags
It's tidy now, it's very nice
It's nicer than when we arrived

The Sunday ramblers are surprised
The local squire’s out for a ride
And he's looking very dapper
In his Sunday morning clobber

Disgusted says, "I beg your pardon
Would you do this in someone's garden?
This is God's Garden where you're at."
There's only one reply to that.
"This is Gods Garden isn't it?
Well we're The Church of Having It."

(c) Peggy Pegworth 2000