Then someone mentioned reincarnation. The grown ups in the room glanced quizically at each other and said things like "you don't think?"; "don't be ridiculous!"; and "it might be far-fetched, but what if...?". I tried to tell them I wasn't John Lennon, I was only me, but I spoke baby and they weren't bilingual. I screamed in frustration but all they did was check my diaper. I knew from then on that my opinion would always be shit.
As I grew older they made me sing and play the guitar but I had no rythm, no talent and no soul. At least not the soul everyone expected to see. Eventually the pressure led to drugs, drink and despair. Did anyone help? No. They were only encouraged! They said I was just getting in touch with that famous dark side John and I were supposed to share. Today I sit here bald, broke and penniless wondering what life could have been if I'd only been born the day Ringo died.
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