Psychedelic flour rains from the sky as a siren sings a melody so sweet it tastes like fairy floss enfolding me in clouds of saintly bliss.  Reality subsides fast into the shade of whimsy shaped in hairpieces parading around the castle of coloured lights hung by the architects of air for our pleasure.  Beer flows along streams of grass lined by flags flying the patriotism of the artists lament crooning over crowds of disciples gathered as the faithful before the alter of sin seeking redemption from life's bright glare.