It's been about a year since my roommate & me wrote a diddy which consisted of nothing except song titles from the Beatles. It was not set to music specifically, but we performed it with the backing of Ray Charles' "America". It definitely made for good theater, even though the ex-roommate wanted to throw fruit at us.
Being a slow news day, I figured I'd reprint it for your enjoyment. It's in two parts.
Hey Jude, it's getting better.
I'm back in the USSR, and I've got a feeling: When I'm 64 and when I get home, you won't see me. That'll be the day you can please, please me and you can drive my car down Penny Lane.
I am free as a bird; for I got a woman, and I love her. In the octopus' garden, it's her majesty, that dear Prudence, and I saw her standing there. And to know her is to love her; here, there and everywhere; even when the rain comes. What goes on in your heart?
I want to tell you: Come together under Mr. Moonlight. Girl, don't let me down: love me do, or something. You know my name; look up the number; I'll keep you satisfied.
So get back and Roll Over, Beethoven. You say you want a revolution? Boy, you gotta carry that weight of Maxwell's Silver Hammer, for you never give me your money, you goo goo ga joob, dig it?
No Lucille, Maggie Mae, Martha, Michele, Julia, Eleanor Rigby, Polythene Pam or my Bonnie; Long Tall Sally, Lovely Rita, Lady Madonna or Sexy Sadie. I wanna be your man, eight days a week. I got to get you into my life, for all you need is love for golden slumbers. So why don't we do it in the road?
Halleluja, I love her so, in a Blue Jay Way. Like a taste of honey. And I feel fine. Thank you girl, we can work it out.
