When I was a little girl, McDad used to take me and Big Bruv to the Hancock Museum in Newcastle.
There were lots of boats and mechanical things, but also a room full of stuffed animal heads poking out of the wall.
Imagine my excitement when McDad said "Let's go next door now and see the bodies; they are on the other side of the wall in the next room'.
********************* little stars to tell us that idea is finished and another one about to begin
I think I am coming to the conclusion that the best songwriters have the ability to recognise a crap song when they've written one and throw it away, pretending it never existed in the first place.
How I wish I had this ability myself.
I wonder if it's too late?
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