The night was dark, the moon was full, the sky was full of stars, And in the forest carparks lovers wrestled in their cars, When on the breeze there came a sound that stopped their fond embraces, That chilled the soul and set their teeth a-rattling in their faces. The night was full, the moon was dark, the sky was full of cloud, When came that sound, that rules of war would never e'er allowed, It even woke the local drunk from slumber in the hedge, That awful high vibration setting all his teeth on edge. The moon was night, the dark was full, the sky was full of bats, When came that noise far worse than yowls from over-lustful cats, The vicar prayed, and crossed himself, and pause in his undressin', Then smiled and said : "Fear not, 'tis only Julie's fiddle lesson." And in Acacia Cottage whence that racket emanated, The smiling Mrs Fortescue said: "Surely it is fated, That Julie is a genius!" (and in delusion chronic,) "She soon will be the leader of the London Philharmonic." When nights are dark and stars are full and ear-plugs you have fitted, And head beneath the pillow stuffed, until young Julie's quitted, Reflect on this phenomenon the proverb expert quotes: The amateur musician never hears his off-key notes. * * * There was a pub in Portsmouth, in the days ere I went bald, A pleasant little hostelry, Lord Chichester 'twas called. Alas, the foolish landlord had a piano in the bar, And at it I sat down, once I had drained the cider jar. I rolled my sleeves then let my hands glide o'er the yellowed keys, Played TV themes and folk tunes and the Flight of Bumble Bees, And every one a masterpiece, note perfect in my mind, So when the barman crossed the room, I thought he'd been assigned... ...To ask for a request, and yes, I guess in part that's true: He told me I was giving him a headache, and he threw Me out, and though I've shunned it since that ignominious day, He swapped it for a juke box, and that even I could play.
Tuesday, May 06, 2003