𝑆𝑂𝑁𝐺 𝐼𝑀𝐴𝐺𝐼𝑁𝐸𝑆 [𝐵𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐿𝐸𝑆]

A Day In The Life | Ringo

[1967]
(I apologize if this is awful)
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SCENE:
The day had been dark. Thick and tumultuous grey-blue clouds loomed greatly in the skies above London, however, even with the threat of a possible downpour, people still filled the compact sidewalks, and cars still honked aggressively from the streets.

Smells of car exhaust mixed with burnt toast and bacon from the nearby french cafe, and wafted into your nose, making your stomach murmur. You watched as people conversed with one another around you, mothers yelling at their children for attempting to steal from nearby fruit stands, old men shouting at the cheeky boys trying to plant cigarettes on his lawn, and finally, there were the quiet ones who moved quickly with someplace to be.

There was also a sort of stiffness that clung in the air, making it almost difficult to breathe as you quickly walked down the sidewalk. Lately all the newspapers show is the horrible wars, gruesome deaths, and tear-jerking obituaries to tag along with it. It was a series of heartaches.

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Ringo held onto your hand firmly as you strolled past fans attempting to claw at his face, making your way to the studios, the two of you stopping at a newsstand and snatching a paper with a grotty headline.

"Would ye look at this." Ringo tutted and smacked the front page, holding it out for your viewing as you pushed through security into the tall, white, building of EMI studios.

"Another man has made the grave." You sighed, glancing over the scrawny writing.

"Rather sad." A smile formed on Ringo's lips and you couldn't help but laugh along with him at the bad news. It wasn't that you disrespected those who died, but it was that the news was still the same for a week now.

"A bad car accident."

"Yeah, and the English army won the war." Ringo commented with a cheeky smirk, pointing down at a black and white photo and opening the door for you, the sound of a large orchestra pouring out.

"Are ye making fun of me film?" John joked, taunting Ringo with a clenched fist. Ringo just laughed and pushed him away, his hand still wrapped around yours.

Paul stood in front of a small mirror, dragging a combing through his lofty head of hair, looking like he was running late.

"It seems we've got some time." Ringo analyzed, pulling you into a nearby closet and flipping on a switch. It smelt like mold and rotting wood, but you didn't have time to look around before Ringo crashed his lips onto yours and began to kiss you hungrily, biting on your bottom lip. "I love to turn you on.." He hissed breathily into your ear, sending a pulse through your lower half as his hands traveled across your body.

In the distance you could hear someone calling his name, but he continued to kiss you, moving down to your neck and pressing himself further onto you with each kiss. You let out a moan when his hand brushed below your waistline, your lust for him growing.

"Oh Ringo you do turn me on." You moaned as his tongue grazed the insides of your mouth lustfully.

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idk why this was ringo but I felt it should have been.
also this doesn't have a lot of lyrics for a 6 minute song.