Sure is a lot of songs about blackbirds or black birds. Let’s see there’s Blackbird by the Beatles, and Blackbird Sing, and Blackbird by those other guys, and Song of The Blackbird, and Blackbirds of London, and there's one about Blackbirds Baked In A Pie.
Yes, yes, I made one of those up.
The Beatles are all fully dead now except Paul who’s going to die soonishly. I took a CD of The White Album, ground it up and smoked it in a little brass pipe. It took me four hours, and in the end I had a dream and in the dream a walrus called me on the phone. He made me listen while he shot at Paul’s feet, making him dance about comically. Then he shot Paul for making light of the situation. “Hey Jude” it said, “Paul’s dead, so if you haven’t got your shit together by now, you know, just give up."
Which is weird because my name’s not Jude. It just isn't. Stupid walrus.
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