Today we are traveling from rusty (not rustic) folk to pulsating pop via some Shatneresque spoken word.
Here’s my old buddy Jack from Hefner.
Last year I read in the Bexley New Shopper about a bitter man who,on Christmas Eve, and in a drunken moment of madness, broke into his estranged wife’s house. After drinking the Brandy and eating the mince pies which had been left out for Santa he fell asleep under the tree. Upon his discovery on Christmas Morn the police were called and he was taken away and sectioned under the mental health act. His actions were ill-advised and there was,no doubt, a better way of rekindling the romance of Christmas. There again this could simply be a song about a very naughty dog. – Jack Hayter