dublin southside, 2008. photograph by barry.
"Nothing to do to save his life, call his wife in.
Nothing to say but what a day; how's your boy been ?
Nothing to do, it's up to you,
I've got nothing to say but it's O.K."
- Lennon & McCartney.
Except. Underneath Mr. Martin's shiny production excesses - admirable, though they may be - there lurks a connoisseurs' carefully barbed slice of healthy cynicism. The rusting hull of a scuppered tug.
Nasty. Thank you, John.
Don't shoot the messenger. Unless his name is Chapman.
▼ THE BEATLES: GOOD MORNING, GOOD MORNING from "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" LP (Parlophone) 1967 (UK)
PURCHASE SGT. PEPPER
4 comments:
Perfect
Yes. Sometimes I forget just how much I like this song.
Werd, ib.
Though, my "Catcher In The Rye" reading self would even deny the Chapman shooters their bullets...
I think the officials should just let that cunt out once per year, from his prison cell - well announced - and point out where he's scurrying...
I'd love to get my licks in.
(and, a'cause I'm weird about it, I wanna report the capcha again: "jzifi" which I read as 'Jesus, if I')
Oh, and too..
It looks like there night be another mouthful of wine from that doorway bottle!
I've never been above finishing off street booze,
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