Christmas time...

...Mistletoe and Wine,
Children sing in no particular rhyme,
Your mum's on the fire,
The cat's up the tree,
It's time to get drunk
On the booze that we seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee...

I wrote these hilarious lyrics to Sir Cliff's pop anthem at whatever time Mistletoe and Wine was released (I'm informed by the net that it was 1988 - such precocious writings for a six month old child). I seem to remember rehashing Nathan Jones by Bananarama and making it about my increasingly follicly-challenged Latin teacher Brian Jones. "Brian Jones, you are going bald, Brian Jones, you have now gone bald". Why this talent wasn't picked up on defies logic.

I firmly believe that I have a number one song inside me, and I don't mean Lady In Red which is in my heart every day. Sadly, I am not proficient enough in a useful instrument which would aid song-writing like the piano or the guitar. However, I do play the bugle and the drums which, erm... don't help at all. The band in which I played were at the front of the procession which lead Wimbledon FC through the town centre after they had won the FA cup. I still recall the terrible carnage as we stopped and the bus didn't.