I want to move to Glastonbury! I’d climb up the Tor every day.
I want to move to Glastonbury, To live my life in an ‘Oh so spiritual way.’
I want to move to Glastonbury, I would get up with the dawn;
Do yoga in the morning before I get a chance to yawn.
I want to move to Glastonbury, I could move in near an Ashram,
I want to move to Glastonbury, start every day with bhajans
I want to move to Glastonbury, Open a self-help book emporium.
Be a famous Avalonian,ba pseudo-historian,
A sustainable, ethical business-woman,
Make eco-friendly lotions and potions.
I will deal with my demons.
I’ll handle my emotions.
I want to move to Glastonbury to hang out with the hippies,
Meet the Druids, be a Bard; write poems and folkish ditties.
I want to move to Glastonbury, wear purple velvet dresses,
Put flowers in my hair; be really abundant and totally blessed.
I want to be the priestess the Goddess loves the bestest,
I want to be enlightened , like all the rest …. is.
I want to move to Glastonbury. Oh … you’ve heard it all before?
But I want to move to Glastonbury to fix that problem under the Tor.
I’ll change my name to Crystal Clear, be reborn, reborn, Reborn!
I want to move to Glastonbury, have tea with new age gurus,
open a raw food deli, study kabala, practice voodoo,
Hoodoo, voodoo, you do, I could teach the healing that you do,
I’ll have colonic irrigation and deal with all the doo doo.
I want to move to Glastonbury, be a Wiccan Hindu Buddhist
I want to be very, very, very grounded in Avalon’s holy mist.
I want to move to Glastonbury, but everybody knows,
She won’t open up to anyone; only the chosen get to go.
And then it happened,
I got to move to Glastonbury. I’m a lucky lucky thing!
To sip the golden chalice and sit by holy springs.
I got to move to Glastonbury. Oh, it made my heart sing
And here my friends is where the trouble begins.
I got to move to Glastonbury, It was a … tricky start,
Yet, here I found community to really warm your heart,
I was free to be me, I could dress how I please.
I could fill my bucket with a truckle of cheese.
I could love and get loved up, do rituals for the bees,
I could step into my power,
then everyone could see!
Then the mill began to turn and so the rumours started,
Someone said I summoned demons every time I farted.
Next thing I’m a witch. (I’m supposed to feel offended?)
Which is pretty kitsch, so I wasn’t upended.
He said, “you do black magic,”
I said, “Sir, you’re a fool”
Oh, I tried to keep my patience but I fear I lost my cool,
and I wasn’t feeling so spiritual.
I got to move to Glastonbury now I’m screaming on the High Street,
Cos some nutter’s pissed me off and I couldn’t give a hundred monkey’s
What anybody thinks!
I got to move to Glastonbury and so started the gnosis.
I got to have a soiree and a dance with my psychosis.
Now everyone but me can see where the bogey on my nose is
while I get lost in the process of process, process, process!
Process, surrender, fucking process,
Process, process – what the fuck, process. Surrender to the process.
I got to move to goldfish bowl where I couldn’t stub my toe,
Wipe my arse or blow my nose without everybody knowing.
In the open air asylum, the cracks, they started showing,
Like embracing the siren,
There was no escape, no going.
And before I knew what I was hiding
I discovered what I’m showing.
And thus began the process of growing.