Dear Mr Williams, I am sorry to say
That i have just read your letter over tea, here in the UK
And it troubles me greatly to see that you claim
That i endorse your view
Though you do not know my name
Or in fact where i live, how i think, feel or care
You see i am a Songwriter
And i live well, everywhere.

Did we meet at the Smithsons wedding in May ?
If we did my apologies, for it’s so long it’s hard to say
I do appreciate your efforts, to speak on my behalf
But the assumptions you make
Well in all honesty made me laugh.

You see as child on one Christmas day i was given a guitar
No unions, or subscriptions to pay
I was free just to sit and make all kinds of noise
No authorisation needed to play with my toys.

But then when older A & R said :

Ya can’t sing or play mate
And yar not right for us
It’s kinda alright
But we don’ `ear a chorus
So ere’s a small deal and we own wha’ you write
And we’ll takes ours an’ more before yours mate
I’m sure that salright !

So then producers and studios got fat on the pot
And i got the bill and that was all that i got.

But i still have my music and that’s a god given thing
Free to anyone who wants to just play and sing
And i’m free to express and share what i please
Without you or your contracts
Or your boxes and fees.

So Mr Williams I am sure you are honorable in most every way
Although i remind you the world is the world , and is not the USA
Because to that god owns the copyright
And it is he only and not you who can say
When and if the music will dry up
For all of us one day.