Paul McCartney: …No Not Really In A Way Actually As It Happens…

VENUS AND MARS ARE LATE.
The sandwiches don't care, though. Even though they're the same day's vintage – fresh, soft white bread-triangles housing excerpts from what was once a proud, regal salmon – the effects of being stashed in a direct line with brilliant sunlight has crisped and dried them to the point where this premature ageing process has reduced them to the approximate consistency of the kind of sandwiches that get exhumed from six days' burial in the less congenial kind of pub.