Sgt. Pepper, Rocky Raccoon, an octopus with a garden in the shade; McCartney and Lennon built rich worlds in just a stanza or two. To have a writing partner/rival like the ones they had in one another was surely the reason they churned out generation-defining ballad after generation-defining ballad. Their storybook playfulness made their work timeless.
So I'll try my hand at writing a lyrical fairy tale in the same vein as something that you'd find on The Grey Album.
Janice Tulley made her living in a hemp shop in Lark Lane.
She clipped her fill all day until she swore she'd gone insane.
Until a man named Smith came strolling in, not looking for a toke.
He flung big words of love and fame, Tulley figured he was a fine bloke.
She hung up her clippers and slipped on the slippers she'd figured Smith'd fit her for.
The two lovers pretty flew off to the city, the devil in-tow, hungry for more.
As they do, the bright lights dimmed out, Janice ran into a fray.
The devil snickered at the tricks, he'd tricked her, and he wasn't shy to say.
Smith was a drunk whose sins reached far beyond the bottle and the bubbles.
If that wasn't enough, Janice found that Smith had a pattern of finding trouble.
The devil weaves his spindly webs to make poor lovers long with regret.
Now poor Tulley hears of love and fame across a window, through a headset.