In Festival Park

We are reprobates – predestined to existence -

And in Festival Park we ingest chemicals

That dose our senses into sobriety

And tell life stories and the woes of society.

And when we hear the march of hate,

We create to quell the demon drums

That comes tormented as the whistle hums.

We make free-making music,

For it is we who are the hope bringers -

Song singers –

Reprobates clinging together

Through the bright night of the sun;

As one we whisper this sleepless day, this sweet desperation;

Communicate our joyful sorrow

As we hurtle through space to tomorrow.