Three out of four ain’t bad
It’s not the best idea you ever had
And you don’t know why
But I put the blame on Mr Blue Sky
Cash your payment
When Yesterday’s played
On radio stations every day
That enough to keep your wife and kids in mung beans
Will it sell
Will it hell
Is the money
What it’s all about
’cause if you’re short
You can always sell your guitar
Don’t you know that you’re a nowhere man
And you don’t touch my guitar it gently weeps
And we really wish that you’d get back to Tucson, Arizona
’cause everyone’s doing the mania again
And it’s a crying shame that you can’t bring back the dead
No, no, no
Remember the Star Club days
Everyone’s having a mop top phase
Love me do
She loves you yeah
But I really can’t stand
Your one man band
You know that you could never understand
It’s so tragic
Well did all the magic go (I don’t know)
Will it sell
Will it hell
Are you giving all
To Yoko and Jacko
If you’re short
You could always sell your guitar
Don’t you know that you’re a nowhere man
And it’s not just my guitar that gently weeps
And we really wish that you’d get back to Tucson, Arizona
’cause everyone’s doing the mania again
And it’s a crying shame that you can’t bring the dead
No, no, no
P McC wakes the life out of me
Gets on my nerves
More than Cilla Black and Tarby
And Boardman, Stanley
Is everyone doing the mania again
Yeah, yeah, yeah
I said, is everyone doing the mania again
Yeah, yeah, yeah
On the way I could stay being in the Beatles
Yeah, yeah, yeah
It’s a crying shame that you can’t bring the dead
You can’t bring the dead
No, no, no