Two hundred tramps riding supermarket trolleys down the High Street flinging garbage at the respectables, howling at the scrapers, downing cocktails of Chanel No 5 and White Spirit as they pass a giant advertising board dominated by the words 'Chi non fotte e fottuto!' and singing their favourite anthem:

Alone on the clouds all blue,
lying on an eiderdown,
Yippee you can't see me, but I can you.

Lazing in the foggy dew,
sitting on a unicorn.
No fear, you can't hear me but I can you.

Watching buttercups come to light,
Sleeping on a dandelion.
Too much I won't touch you but then I might.

Streaming through the starlit skies,
travelling by telephone.
Hey ho, here we go, ever so high....

[(c) Syd Barrett]