No one wrote a song for me   Just instrumental not too long   As sure as sure could ever be   You'd only get the lyrics wrong      No solo Chet Baker ever played   lowered me slowly to my grave   The prose that Keats and Yates would save   was for King and Queen not knave      I have no poem that describes my charm   No story told that's short and sweet   I have no hymn, I have no psalm   This song I have it has no beat   Yes it has no beat   No tapping of feet   Yes it has no beat      Miles Davis played the black 'n' blues   Did he play for me to lose?   Cause just when round midnight falls   That tune's not his it's Kenny Ball's      Now on that graveyard on that grave   On that tombstone in the shade   No poem written, no accolade   No "We loved you" ever sprayed      There's just this feeling from that moss   When epitaph you cannot read   he must have lived it at budget cost   So he deserves to be beneath      All that William Robinson wrote   not one of my pluses did he portray   those lyrics stuck right down my throat   I never hit   It never hit   My hit parade