Ambrosia and Divine

I was busking on the corner of Ambrosia and Divine The crowd was pretty thick, so I was doing mighty fine Chris and Pete were close at hand, standing right by me So in total we made three We’d made a boyhood pledge that we’d always stick together No matter what the circumstance, no matter what the weather And after I had finished we went off to pick up Heather My wife in case you’re thinking 'Who is she?' We were feeling pretty thirsty so we went into a pub We drank a lot of nectar and ate hardly any grub And somebody said (and I don’t remember who) 'What’s we gonna do?' And someone (once again I can’t finger which of four) Said 'Let’s all reincarnate and start a Holy War It’s time those bloody devils were pounded to the floor' Stop laughing - I swear that this is true The problem was, when I awoke I found my memory gone Except for a vague feeling that I’d really tied one on And as I tried to reach out I let out a mournful groan I was down here on my own I hadn’t got the faintest clue to point towards my name What I was supposed to do, or even whence I came Apart from a strong itch ‘it is important all the same’ Which seemed to be embedded in the bone And slowly, oh so slowly, my memory came back I stumbled every which way as I tried to find the track My ‘Drunkard’s Walk’ meandered till I crossed their path somehow And we’re all together now Heather got here earliest - by a hundred and fifty days We met rather young while still enveloped in a haze The others took a scenic route that turned into a maze Arriving here with furrows on their brow Well, many more are gathering of whom I’ve just now learned They must have joined the party some time while my back was turned Each one brings a golden strand which weaves into the key - Our collective memory And as our numbers swell, we are starting to define What we first envisaged as we quaffed the sacred wine We’re very nearly ready, we’re just waiting for the sign To create perfect Unity The New World we all want to see But I’ll tell you right now, straight from me Once we’re finished with our grand design And I get back, I’m going to resign* And I’ll never more Go busking on the cor- ner of Ambrosia and Divine * Or re-sign? I don’t know