Earworms

[kivrin]

I’ve been listening to various recordings of Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd and while there are definite downsides to the resultant humming about cannibalism, the urge to sing “nooo plaaace like LON-DON” every time the word London crosses my path is much less of a problem than the urge to sing “OUT! ON! LEICESTER SQUARE! DIAMONDS DOWN TO MY DER-RI-ERE!” (from the finale of the deservedly forgotten 1965 show Baker Street, "a musical adventure of Sherlock Holmes.")

That being what played in my head every time Mrs K and I passed through Leicester Square tube station last September.

Which, as we were staying on the Northern Line, was A Lot.