I KNOW

I've written this in verse form  -  ok, doggerel  -  and it explains itself:

CILLA BLACK
OR THE STAR OF THE NORTH-WEST

When first I lived in LiverpoolSome pleasure for to findI heard a local singer thereMost pleasing to my mind
The scene was getting groovy thenThe year was ’62And in among the beat-group boysThis girl was fresh and new
Her rosy cheeks, her gutsy voiceLike arrows pierced my breastShe was The Maid Of MerseysideThe Star Of The North-West
She knew her black soul music thenShe knew her r’n’bShe made her reputationWithout panto or TV
You’d catch her at the Cavern thenOr the Tower in New BrightonSinging with a rhythm groupThe punters couldn’t frighten
But Cruel Fate did wreck herHer career was soon a past ’unPoor girl, she signed to Decca:Fame was snatched from Beryl Marsden.
So when the music biz sent roundSome tone-deaf cockney hackTo sign a slice of Mersey SoundThere was only Cilla Black.