No, Sir Paul, THIS is another silly love song
Arble Jarble, Jarble Jarble Run like a fox, run like chickens, Marry me & we'll carve on marble Rude little poems about Charlie Dickens I want to be two pounds of strawberries and a cup of sugar at most I want to make myself into jam so you can spread me on your toast (HIPSTER VERSE: To be played on mandolin & bass ukelele after drinking three espressos in Northcote) I'll be a bitcoin billionaire for you...