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Earworms
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.
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.