The Classic Sting

[To celebrate the release of Sting's new classical opus Songs From The Labyrinth, Mick Jagger recounts a twisted tale of musical corruption.]

Sting and Paul McCartney came knocking on my door.
They said we've got an offer, Mick, you simply can't ignore.
We're going to stage a concert, under guise of charity.
Then run off with the profits and a huge appearance fee.

This sounded like a top idea; I told them count me in.
I'd sing a few crowd-pleasers and then leave the rest to Sting.
The tickets sold like hot cakes at surprisingly high prices.
McCartney said we'll be so rich, we'll need to find new vices.

The concert proved a great success, and not a soul surmised
That this gang of ageing rockers were taking them for a ride.
We jammed a final encore, then slipped away backstage
To drink champagne and share our massive, ill-begotten wage.

Sting came in with a large brown bag and said "I've got the loot."
But our faces dropped as he emptied it, and realised we'd been duped.
Instead of a pile of money, or even a big gold bar,
Out fell an old wooden instrument, with strings like a guitar.

"Here's your lute," Sting sniggered. "You've both been rather greedy.
All cash has gone to Africa to help the poor and needy.
I knew you wouldn't play for free, so devised a cunning scheme.
But thanks for coming anyway, you made a marvellous team."

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, McCartney seemed the same.
Tricked by a Tantric tosser with a silly one-word name.
We needed a witty comeback to prove we could take a joke.
So buried him alive with a hornet hive and sold his wife for coke.