The goats bleating,
Horses neighing,
Asses braying.
I rocking the bands,
You rocking the bands,
I rolling you,
You rolling me
And we doing rock n roll,
The music sounding jarring,
Full of musical instruments
And their sounds
And you singing
And I failing to take to your fineness of the throat,
Your singing tone.
I looking disco, you disco,
The disc playing,
The bell-bots, hippie-cut hair,
I looking up-to-date,
You too up-to-date.
The hostellers and the hoteliers
All dancing, singing and shaking the body,
The hostellers sounding their pots
For food
And the hotellers
For drinks,
All faded, faded,
Mechanical and monotonous,
No colour in life.
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