That was Amelie singing for her supper at 9pm last night. Having published yesterday's blog post, we packed a couple of bags and drove to St Leonards to spend the weekend with my parents. By eight-thirty, when we pulled into their driveway (well, parked on their lawn), they'd watched her video enough times to know The Piglet Song like the back of their hams, and were lying in wait with a microphone and a pair of Elton John glasses.
Needless to say, the showcase went down a storm. Now I just need to cut a record deal that doesn't involve my Dad on the swanee whistle.
4 comments:
I still prefer my version.
I'll record your version Dave.
Thank you. 10% Royalties to you, and 10 to Phil.
If not the swanee whistle then what about the hosepipe? He used to be a dab hand with one of those before you were born!
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