Poor men talk to God.
Rich men talk of wealth and fame.
Poets talk to ghosts.

Ingredients:
One voice lifted in song,
Two hands ready to play,
Six strings, freshly picked,
One guitar, perfectly tuned,
One foot to keep time,
One heart full of inspiration,
One positive mental attitude
Without any artificial additives.

Method:
Blend gently together,
Fold in a warm, mellow mood,
Play for as long as it takes,
Or until everything good rises
Into a bluesy, folksy, mixture
That will satisfy the hungriest hungry soul.
Serve anytime, anywhere.
Goes especially well with friends, singers and other musicians.

The owl and the pussycat came home from sea,
Their boat had finished its course.
The cat took the honey, and most of the money,
Then filed a suit for divorce.

The owl had a hard time finding a brief,
But the pussycat had it made.
For you see the poor owl was a ripped-off old fowl,
But the cat got feline aid.

They argued away, for a year and a day,
In court, where they made a fine show.
Till the owl, said he, would better off be
In the land where the **** trees grow.

He was asked, “Are you willing to sell for a shilling
Your share of the boat and guitar?”
Then after long wrangles and tough legal tangles,
The owl and his brief said, “We are.”

So the owl and the pussycat went their own ways,
The cat left dancing a jig.
She hopped on a plane and got married again,
And the owl went to live with the pig.

Despite God watching,
People die and children starve.
It’s okay to doubt.

I can see her face, standing before him,
Looking lost and alone and afraid.
But he can't take it back,
That uncalled for attack,
Or undo the mistake that he made.

For you wish your tongue dead on the pavement,
Brutally torn from your head.
But the tears you have cried
Over love which has died
Can never repair what you said.

For the roses you bought her have withered,
And the champagne you shared has gone flat.
You betrayed a great trust,
And it’s all turned to rust,
And there’s not much you can do about that.

Though you say you can go on without her,
Though you say that your heart is like stone,
You know it’s not true,
For she’s gone now and you
Can't think of tomorrow alone.

Christ came to worship
And sat beside the needy.
Both were left to starve.

It was dark inside the Cavern Club,
The Beatles played the night away.
We twisted and we shouted then
We waltzed when they played “Yesterday”.

It was loud inside the Cavern Club,
The throbbing music filled the air.
I’ll never dance with another now,
It pleased me I could take you there.

It was magical in the Cavern Club,
A mystery I don’t understand.
We said hello, we said goodbye,
We worked it out, I held your hand.

There was love inside the Cavern Club,
On that, I think, we are agreed.
From me to you, eight days a week,
And love is really all you need.