A Quaker Hotel
On radio interview day
His accent so swell
Talking of play
His girlfriend asleep
On the back of the bike
Nude swimmers in deep
With his karma to strike
Thunder, lightning
Then missing the boat
The snow was whitening
His car sliding, as if afloat
Jack Simmons bowled him out
In no time at all
So he went ride-about
From the ferry, to Donegal
I tell of that night
Midnight on the M62
What a magnificent snow sight
My story, also told for you
Wagons, then cars
Opening the blockade
Policemen under the stars
Watch the free-thinkers on parade
