Happy Birthday Macca: 82 today.

I remember replaying this song time and again when I was bought Beatles For Sale when I was six. It is still one of my favourite Beatles’ songs as it is so simple and so lovely.

 
It’s a long winding road
from Liverpool to here,
from the strict mores and rules
of an old grammar school,
to sagging off with your mate
in a mossy cemetery
where dead headstones hid
one who sang out her name,
who sank through your skin,
later coming out perfect
and breathing again, her face
back again in a jar by the door,
impossibly sad and beautiful.

It’s a long winding road
from Beatling to here,
fifty odd years gone
yet somehow not quite,
the zing of the singing
captured, time capsuled,
young forever,
played again and again
in a psychedelic bubble
where it never ever rains.

Where an 82 year old man
still picks up his bass,
paints a smile on his face
and replays the soundtrack
to everyone’s days.
 
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