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N obody was really sure And make a pile.

Or ran around, sprouting wings.


SODS £ PEPPERS CLUB It said the boat people were the
3obkir. Lane is in my ear3 and on my
George, John and Rir.go, ‘they don't cause
About twenty years ago today know back
I'd love to turn the page. A bizarre alley made up of cobble-
All they ever grew was dried-out hay Or they won't say
Now they spend all weekend in the yard stone
Buy all the album covers Woke up, fell out of bed
A-Raising radishes and leeks and chard And built by hacks.
With the hidden clues to discover Sort the thoughts in m y head
So may I introduce to you Dragged up a lead for the front page
The guys who bring Lawn Doctor tears Paul is dead Bobkin Lane . . . - D .F.
A piece of fiction, sure to engage
Sods £ Peppers Local Garden Club! We replaced him with a look-alike Faked the facts, worked in hype
We're Sods £ Peppers Local Garden Club Who could sing, play guitar and TODAY
Stop the press, get it typed
We hope all our roots will stay put write Imagine there's no Beatles
And you bought the hype that Show it to my staff, somebody spoke
We're Sods £ Peppers Local Garden Club Said it was a joke and I went into a The prospects aren't bright
Ralph Snodsmith's just a tenderfoot Paul is dead. No sub below us
-D.F. dream
Sods £ Peppers Local, Sods £ Peppers Local, AAAh -- AAAAh -- AAHA . . . Above us no Mr. Kite
Sods £ Peppers Local Garden Club Imagine all the solos
We don't like flower-pickers CHARLIE MANSON Not quite up to par . . .
Charlie Manson I read the News today, oh boy
And please keep off our lawn The People Page would get the facts
We don't like crabgrass, dandelions, What have you done? My sweet loot
You made a mess of everyone all straight
Or neighbors who grow twelve-foot pines It said the Beatles won't return Enough to make m y guitar hoot
And block out the sunshine You made a mess of everyone I ’d really like to earn some more
Charlie Manson The Post said nothing more
I don't really want to stop the song They sold the papers they had sought I'd really like to b u m some more
But it seems to have gone on too long What have you done? Really like to overturn some more
"Helter Skelter", to sell the day before
And our members should get out and mow, But my albums are ignored, m y loot
You stupidhead, I'd love to turn the page. -D.F.
Water, mulch, prune, fertilize, and sow Hairy lawsuit My sweet loot
So let me introduce to you W as not a call to strike folks dead Hairy lawsuit Oh m y loot
30BKIN LANE
A chap who's most adept with shears We sure were misinterpreted Bobkin Lane, there is a vendor Chiffon ripoff My sweet loot
From Sods £ Peppers Local Garden Club! Charlie Manson selling foot-long franks Chiffon ripoff So much for m y loot
You stupidhead He has knishes, soda pop and
We looped some tapes pretzels too * I've cut songs since we split
What would you think if I trimmed And played some music backwards And all the students on their way to
your rosebush? But I can't get a hit
You listened, then you hacked up everyone class No m a t te r what style I steal
Would you hope I got stung by a bee? Charlie Manson Stop and get some gas-
Lend me your hedge and I'll snip it I sang blues
You ought to buy a new tone arm On the c o m e r is a blackboard and a
to size I sang Western
Y o u ’re in a cell now man from CAR?
And I'll try not to knock down your The many joggers call him Moonie I 'll sing this.
You've found your niche I've sung callypso
tree And our PR m a n almost slashed his wrists •hind his back
Oh, I trim greens w i t h a little help They don't believe his whacko I 've sung pop
There's only one m an w ho came out on top But every single single is a worse flop
from m y shears of this rhetoric,
I pick beans with a little help from Even though it's slick, makes 'em All m y stuff's
Eugliosi sick. In the discount shop
my shears He struck it rich. _ j >Ri
Keep things keen with a little help Ooh how I wish I was still a mop-top
from m y shears Bobkin Lane is in my ears and in my Well I feel nostalgic
'What do I do when the winter wind eyes And this song parallels it
A DAY IN THE LIFE OF RUPERT MURDOCK There beneath the gray urban skies It was swiped from a fifties jukebox
blows? I read the Post today oh boy I sit and meanwhile back I don't mind
Does it make you wish that you were The headline said the Beatles had
dead? I got memories
returned Across the street there is a herd on And residuals . . .
Must I not clip 'till the frozen And though the article was small disco roller skates
hedge grows? Well I just had to gasp Making moves to music no one else
Must y ou lock your shears up in the What's wron g with you?
T h e y ran a can hear I wish I could see
shed? photograph And the people Y o u ’ll buy anything
No, I trim stairs with a little help
you can spot If you bought m y LPs
Trim m y hair with a little help from are new Who are you that you can be so misled?
m y shears Have a scrape or Guess y o u ’re the same boobs who believed
With a little help from my two, black ar.d
she-e-e-e- e - e - e - e - e a r s • that I was dead
b^ue
Bums are sprawled If you like What the Man Said, you won't
out on the get far
benches Most Wings fans could even get conned by
PAUL IS DEAD when the weather's Ravi Shankar . . .
Paul Ts dead mild
All the albums will tell you so Weirdos shout Imagine we got together
We have our reasons why he had to gc their pleas to Got back where we belonged
Believe us that Paul is dead. couples on the Would things be like yesterday?
street A revoluti-on?
Accident And the people le' Or would we make the Ruttles
He was in an auto accident their dogs run Look original?
So play the record ir. reverse wild You m a y say that I'm a grumbler
And hear the verse say Paul is dead. That we'll get back again for sure
You'd best stop dreaming of reunions
Why he had to go Or you might wait 'till you're sixty-four.
We don't know, it wasn't clear
He stood with his back to us - J .R •
Crossed the road with his feet bare.
Cover photo by Dan "Strawberry" Fiorella
Paul is dead drawings by John "The Walrus" Rawlins
That's the message that the walrus
brings
We had to do it ’fore he got to i i X £ 1 i J!
sing A splendid thyme Is guaranteed for all |