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peter wyngarde - hippie and the skinhead lyrics

oh, have you seen this? where is it?
oh yes, here it is
yes, this letter was in the sunday times, london, 28th of september, 1969
shall i read it to you?

it was headed: “skinheads in skirts”

“we are two girls, according to your article, as skinheads
we don’t think you know much about us
around our way, the boys wear big boots, like you said, called bother boots
we’re called bothers, mods, peanuts, and a variety of other names
the boys have crops, like the boys in your picture, not crew cuts
and bracеs are worn with their levi’s
wе do work hard, unlike the hippies
i say we, because we girls are mods, or bothers, or peanuts, as well as the boys
if you want to see real clean, decent ones, come to bookham”

“we don’t like long hair, hippies, flowery clothes or anything which attracts attention
as for us girls, we wear skirts that are long by today’s standards
most of us have crops, hair that is short on top, with long back and sideboards
we wear maxi+cardis, stretched lace blouses, and we don’t wear makeup anymore, we’re just out for a good time.”

miss jane skinner and chris webb, age 15, great bookham

billy was a queer, pilly, s+xy hippie
he wore gear, frilly, hairy, zippy
mohair in the winter, less hair in the summer
his mac was black, scarf immaculate, tied loosely
not interfered with promiscuity
beads that went all the way to eternity
especially on his trips around 3:30
billy the queer pilly s+xy hippie

then one night, he went to troll the dilly
to spend a penny and met a skinhead, kenny
kenny was one too many, a skinhead who hated plenty

but billy loved his puritanical gear
his boots, his braces, his hair, and something else which was quite rare
kenny was a doer, pimply, silly, drear
who’s only joy was knocking down a queer

so the moment his beatle+esque brows rose in frenzy
billy gulped, zipped up, and looked less trendy

the crew cut ken and all his men stomped out and round in style
their boots as small as size being 10
they had to walk in indian file

billy ran up the stairs to the street and suddenly found he was surrounded by feet
what was night became the day that lovely ken didn’t want to play
instead he looked like some bad trip
not at all like any hopeful kip
which made poor billy realize that peanuts just don’t vitalize
stop, stop, sock it, stop, stop, stop again
with the magnificent 10
a thing in the face grab hair quickly
snip snip snip, the lot was pr+ckly flat
so, just like mine?
what? oh, poor billy, no more hat size 9
but stop, halt, go back, rerun reel

what’s that between ken’s clammy hand?
a load of hay? familiar material?
a wig!
detached from yellow band
no, no it must be cane
underneath his golden mass is a head as bare
as bare as my +rs+
and what’s this now?
bare is still peeping out and another thrill from torn blouse and b+tton spill
a pair, a pair of skinheads, god, what a pair, she’s a bird, she’s a bird, a bird!

so ken became a less doer, silly, pimply, drear
’cause billy certainly was no pilly, s+xy, hippie
queer?

- peter wyngarde lyrics

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