As an essential part of my training to become properly Scouse, I stole this (you can see where it’s from so that makes it okay, right?).
A rule of life in Liverpool is to some how work a Beatles song into your routine every hour. This can be via the pubs where it’s either on the jukebox repeatedly or somebody is slurring out an off-key version via the Karaoke, or it’s playing on local radio (another good reason to shut down BBC local radio).
Old Liverpudlians find it impossible to last a day without somehow internalising one of the few successes from the area, and so the Beatles are gods, and their songs are hymns.
Scousers don’t acknowledge their failures, and so keep quiet when it comes to all the guns and the killings or the destruction of housing stock or bullying. Rather than try to make things right, they put their fingers in their ears and hum a Beatles song.
So, if I am to be presented with a pair of old hubcaps in order to celebrate my Scouse-ness, I’d better learn this damn song on the flowchart. Bye now.
England's England 