In an ocean of tents on a midsummer's day,
Whilst bands were playing the pyramid stage,
Pink welly boots and heart-shaped shades,
Abigail Payne had passed away.
Queuing for chips they'd met Tyler last night,
Abigail said, "He's a chavvy gob-shite",
Tried to kiss her as they dimmed the lights,
She pushed him away, started a fight.

Changing her mind as the alcohol flowed,
That bad boy thrill, she couldn't say no,
Her friends had told her to take it slow,
That night would end in a deadly blow.
After the gig he lead her to the tent,
Abigail's shy but she knew what that meant,
Charming and funny but Tyler's no gent,
When Abigail died she was still innocent.

Murder at Worthy Farm!   Murder at Worthy Farm!
Freedom from home for a long weekend,
Peace and love, and everyone's friends,
Massive flags and the risk of trench foot,
But nobody thinks they'll end up kaputt.

Her friends were shocked when they saw what they'd found,
They'd heard the thud and a sickening sound,
Abi had fallen face-first to the ground,
A knife in her back, her hands were bound.
The pretty young girl by her makeshift bed,
Still fully dressed with her clothes stained red,
Tyler's the killer, as everyone said,
But Tyler lay there, also dead.

Murder at Worthy Farm!   Murder at Worthy Farm!
Freedom from home for a long weekend,
Peace and love, and everyone's friends,
Massive flags and the risk of trench foot,
But nobody thinks they'll end up kaputt.

The killer stood calmly in the gathering throng,
Smoking coolly and humming a song,
She'd fancied Tyler, hadn't known him that long.
Abigail's friend had right a wrong.

Police are at the crime scene now,
Working out what, when and how,
There's nobody they're ruling out,
They're questioning all of the cows.

Murder at Worthy Farm!   Murder at Worthy Farm!
Freedom from home for a long weekend,
Peace and love, and everyone's friends,
Massive flags and the risk of trench foot,
But nobody thinks they'll end up kaputt.

Her family all said she was lively and fun,
Happy and kind, wouldn't hurt anyone,
They cannot believe she's actually gone.
The killer agreed with everyone.

A year ago now from that midsummer's day,
Abigail's killer is not at bay,
Still in plain sight not hidden away,
Envy cost lives, but will she pay?

Murder at Worthy Farm!   Murder at Worthy Farm!
Freedom from home for a long weekend,
Peace and love, and everyone's friends,
Massive flags and the risk of trench foot,
But nobody thinks they'll end up kaputt.

“I was suffering from writer’s block at the time, so Moz chucked a few ideas at me. When he suggested I write a song about a murder at a festival, a seed was sown.

The story of Abigail Payne’s untimely demise came to me in a coffee shop in South Wales on the way home from buying a bass guitar amp. I sat with a friend and created a detailed picture of Abi and Tyler in my head, then the story came to life. The music and lyrics followed easily after that.

The middle part of the song is a parody of local TV news reports that blend sensationalism with cliché.”

Ronnie