OK, I think it's time to release this version of Raggle Taggle Gypsies into the wild. I wrote this in collusion with my daughter, who was then a student with hippy proclivities, in the mid-1990s. The "Spice Girls" reference dates it a bit, and can be replaced with whatever seems appropriate at the time (or just use "boy band"). Other social details are also showing their age a bit, which only proves that topical versions like this have a limited shelf-life.

I give you my word that we hadn't heard any other parodies at the time - this story just begs to be updated. The final two lines were supplied by my daughter, in deference to Planxty's version ("I'd rather have a kiss from the yellow gypsy's lips..").

THE RAGGLE TAGGLE HIPPIES

Three hippies stood at the garden gate,
With hair down past their shoulders-o
The schoolgirl sat in her bedroom late,
Her heart it melted away as snow.

She plucked off her new school shoes,
All made of scuffproof leather-o,
She ran to the street in her combat boots,
And off with the new age travellers-o.

It was late that night when her Dad came home,
Inquiring for his daughter-o,
Her sister cried, with her head in her hands,
"She's gone with the new age travellers-o."

"O fetch me the keys of the Mercedes,
The Skoda's not so speedy-o,
That I may go and fetch her home
From the convoy of new age travellers-o."

So he set out on the M25,
And got held up in the contraflow,
But at last he came to a festival field,
Full of vans and tents and travellers-o.

And there were the hippies spread all around,
Smoking and drumming and juggling-o,
And there was his daughter lying on the ground,
In the arms of a new age traveller-o.

"What makes you leave your stripped pine bed,
With the duvet plumped up ready-o,
Your Laura Ashley furnishings,
Your Spice Girls posters and your teddy-o?"

"Oh what care I for my stripped pine bed,
My duvet or my teddy-o?
Tonight I will sleep out under the stars,
With a vanload of new age travellers-o."

"What makes you leave your private school,
Where they'll turn you into a lady-o,
Your boyfriend with his well-paid job,
Your CD player and your radio?"

"Oh what care I for my private school,
I know this may sound funny-o,
But I'd rather have a joint from the hairy hippy's lips,
Than all your gifts or money-o".

Marje