https://youtu.be/kx6C248MQeQ

On being young and foolish at the second muddiest Glastonbury Festival in history. 

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In the 1980s there was anger in the air

Thatcher’s children breathing fire with bile-fuelled despair

And thick, treacly green gel bound my spiky hair

The Mary Chain’s screeches echoed in my ears

Morrissey’s tortured words fuelled my every angst and fear

A bedroom rebel hiding from the day-glo Tory cheers

Oh how I felt so Bohemian then

Wham’s false jollity was d...

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