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December 01, 2006

Annie Lennox: Into the West

Now is the time at the Flea when we dance.*

*Be with you in a moment; I seem to have got some dust stuck in my eye.

Posted by Ghost of a flea at December 1, 2006 07:21 AM

Comments

Can one dance to that one?

Cry, yes. Stand and sway a bit, perhaps. Dance?

Well, takes all sorts, I guess...

Posted by: Ben (The Tiger in Exile) [TypeKey Profile Page] at December 1, 2006 08:31 AM

Hence the invention of Bushmills (if you are Protestant, that is).

Posted by: Ghost of a flea [TypeKey Profile Page] at December 1, 2006 08:54 AM

Nick, merci.

I just played it with my wife in the room. Her Dad is on his death bed and she thought this would be a fine song to play at the funeral, so she suggested it to her Mom.

Thx.

Posted by: The_Campblog [TypeKey Profile Page] at December 1, 2006 11:12 AM

Mike, I am terribly sorry to learn of this. You and yours are in my prayers.

Posted by: Ghost of a flea [TypeKey Profile Page] at December 1, 2006 11:20 AM