I can only write while cranking my boombox. So what if I’m guilty of stereo typing.
In the ’70s, where did music go to die? A: The ABBAtoir.
Don’t hang around musicians. They’re either cymbal-minded lyres or drum-soaked sax maniacs.
Before the big recital, I lost my flute. Now I’m in a bit of a piccolo.
How does a percussionist catch fish? A: Castanets.
Shania does her thing and Shania’s estranged husband does another and never the Twains shall meet.
Anyone who can read music must be rather cleffer.
Santa’s favourite metal band? Sleigher.
When all the students in my school got up and sang – things got really a Glee in a hurry.