A cryptic monologue of the 1960s.

Without a care in the world I was sweet sixteen
In a body of youth with a hope so new
But the fourth estate was all around
With blether on tap for me to view

I still felt sad about Ritchie and Jape
With the worst news of all about American Pie
And something had to give with the Baker girl
Poor kid, she never had a chance to die

The Comets crashed and left us rocking
Then everyone jumped on the 6.5 train
But little did we know it would go so far
The music lives on in a kiss-curl vein

Hits and stats made it all worthwhile
With everyone chasing the uncrowned king
The charts were there for the 'whole' to climb
But only four made ten in a serried string

Born on a whim and honed on a Dansette
I didn't take drugs and I never got bare
Lucy never left the ground for me
I remember all this - and I wasn't there!

(one of six verses)