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"I Remember, I Remember The Wondrous Woodstock Fair"
by Frank Jacobs (from MAD Magazine, April 1970, p. 24-25)
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I remember, I remember
The wondrous Woodstock Fair;
In August,'69, it was,
And all the Heads were there;
Four hundred thousand made the trip,
So Walter Cronkite says.
To groove the Who, the Grateful Dead,
Canned Heat, and Joan Baez!

I remember, I remember,
The traffic unforseen
That clogged the lanes for countless miles
On Highway 17;
And even while I write this verse
I fear there is no doubt
That many drivers still are there
Attempting to get out!

I remember, I remember,
That groovy, swinging scene,
That field of wheat that soon became
An open-air latrine;
And how it warmed our happy hearts
And filled us with good cheer
To know the farmer wouldn't need
To buy manure next year!

I remember, I remember, 
The way my nights were spent;
The pleasure when I bedded down
Inside my little tent;
And how I found, on waking up,
That all men were my brothers;
That I'd been joined throughout the night
By forty-seven other!

I remember, I remember,
That bleary, bombed-out mass
That wandered 'round the countryside
Freaked out on hash and grass;
Not all of them, I wish to say,
Possessed a glassy stare;
A few, in fact, could still recall
The reason they were there!

I remember, I remember,
That cataclysmic flood
Of rain that tumbled from the sky
And turned the Fair to mud;
And how the crowd threw off its clothes
And mingled in the bare,
Until the place looked something like
The final scene from "Hair!"

I remember, I remember,
The wondrous Woodstock Fair;
But wait -- I haven't told you of
The rock that I heard there;
I'd really like to fill you in,
But much to my dismay,
The closest that I got to it
Was seven miles away!