they souled off/out the playing field

Souled off; bang on, CS!

...it's a bit stiffer

Fnaar! Fnaar! Glad it turns you on, WAV! Actually, I was expecting Walkabout #219, which I would rewrite as:

Let each Human Individual have their own Church -
Equal, before God*, with the others' Search.

* Let God mean whatever we want it to in this context; God is our personal manifestation of the divine, however so culturally determined that might be the experience remains, ultimately, subjective.

Otherwise, here's my alternative verses to Brian O'Linn which I thought I might sing at the singaround in The Siberian Khatru tonight if anyone fancies it.

Brian O' Linn met the devil one day,
Who showed him a girl lying dead in the hay;
with her he did sport 'til the night it crept in -
There's no chance of child, said Brian O'Linn!

Brian O'Linn he did fuck an old horse
But he got himself stuck and to make matters worse
the horse it ran into the market square then -
Still, they can't see me dick, says Brian O'Linn!

And Brian O'Linn he shot an old dog
And inside it's belly he found an frog
And inside the frog he found a gold ring -
That's the third time this week, said Brian O'Linn!*

And Brian O'Linn found a lump in his balls,
So he picks up the phone and the doctor he calls;
That was three months ago, now he's bald and he's thin -
Sure I fit me old clothes, said Brian O'Linn!

And Brian O'Linn in his coffin did lie;
Dressed up in his best with clean boots and a tie;
Six foot underground and the grave all filled in -
Ah, they can't hear me knocking, says Brian O'Linn!

Brian O'Linn up to heaven did go,
And the light shone so bright, and as white as the snow,
And the angels were singing with no thought of a sin -
I could do with a fag, says Brian O'Linn

So Brian O'Linn he went straight down to hell
Where he filled his owld lungs with the sulphurous smell
And he warmed his cold hands by the fires with a grin -
I'll fetch in the coals, says Brian O'Linn!

* This verse dedicated to Hugh Lupton.