Sing along with the common people

It’s warm; very warm. Sultry. And thankfully Pulp are Patchwork - we were worried it would be Haim. Or worse - the guy next to us (veteran of 30 Glastonburys sez he) was 100% certain it was a Dave Grohl supergroup. Gagh.
Earlier we’d been to the Pier for larks before heading to the Pyramid for the Kaiser Chiefs. A very acceptable start to the day. Any more of these croissants mind and I predict a diet.
Chilled awhile at the theatre grounds (it was hot, have I mentioned) where we must have narrowly missed McC’s son before a singalong with Bob ft. (as they say) Ralph McTell amongst others. Back to the Pyramid for John Fogerty. The music - he absolutely knocked it out the park; the patter - jees, folksy would be kind.
Then it got very crowded for Jarvis, which y’know, is fine for young folks, so after his set (and a red arrows fly past??) we retreated for some down time. And who was at the acoustic stage but Liam Ó Maonlaí and Fiachna Ó Braonáin! Yes, the Hothouse Flowers. A lovely gem of a set.
Back to the Pyramid and we got right down between the sound huts for Neil !! How come? Where is everyone? It’s Neil Young, people! Cinnamon Girl! Harvest Moon! He’s brilliant!
Michael Eavis thinks so too, luckily. Gawd, I’m knackered.