I'm just thinking about this week's dressing room conversations.
Big Chezzza: Haway then pet man, this weeeeek they's givvun uz some ooold songs by some blerks called thuh Beeeatles like.
Little Chezza: Ooo be they then? Ain't never eard on 'em. You must know 'em loike, yuz well old, like twennyseven an' that.
Big Chezza: Tuh be honest pet, ah'm not shooweer mesen.
Little Chezza: This is loike roit unfair yuh? When we gonna get sum decent songs like wot us young people sing an' that, like sum Carn'ee West an' Toinee Tempah an' that? Oi could do 'em well good loike. "Wriiiitten in the staaaaars, ah yeah-"
Big Chezza (hastily) Okaaay, pet, leave it fuh the audience like. Ah think one of thuz Beeetles songs looks reeet good for yuz pet, it's called Imagine. It wuz writ by sum dead blerk called John Lennon an' it's all aboot havin' nooo possessions even thoo' yuz liv in a big hoose with a massive fook-off swimmin' pool an' that.
Little Chezza: Sounds well shit an' that. Oi'll give 'im a go.