Nor Tarzan swinging through the trees … to explain ….. I had switched off the kindle, turned out the light and was snuggling under the duvet to count endless sheep and box the compasses when I heard my upstairs neighbour trundling up his stairs, turning the keys in the door and falling in home – judging by the clock, it must have been pub turfing out time. Now he frequently bursts into song or drums a line while waiting for his kettle to boil and during these dark night hours sound seems to travel further, as if the weight of the day impeeds it in some way. I have no problem with him vocalising these ear worms but I do mind getting them painfully wrong!
Most of us will know [or know when we hear] the song Volare [aka Nel blu dipinto di blu, 1968 Eurovision entry for Italy] .. the chorus is vo-lar-eee oh oh, Cantarte oh oh oh oh .. warbling neighbourino was singing vol-are [insert yodel] vo-lare [insert yodel] …. eeeek .. nerve jangled and head buried deeper under duvet as low moan groaned. After the fourth mash up I could not help but explete a word or two adding sing it right to anything in my room that was listening.
His kettle boiled, thankfully, ending the serenade.
Also when doing “shave and a hair cut” don’t leave a musio hanging for the ‘two bits’ [watchers of Who framed Roger Rabbit will know what I mean]