The Hills are alive with the sound of music? What about the sidewalks of New York?

I love David being a musician. He probably wasn’t restricted to the lyre, the flute, too, being there, was sweet. A sling shot, and now we’re talking.

David, as a musician, was to the ears of the Lord, dang cool, dang drip dry, lone of a mourning morning,

Adair had tuned her harpsichord, to a dobro lo, as if in Teetlebrow, a swing set, slow,

Karol King did sing, and rippled the Atlantic to thank, and tank it.

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