Then a bird began to sing. I looked up at the tree but couldn't see it at first. Who'd handed it a microphone? It wasn't just singing; it was yelling a song out as though hoping it would reach a little birdy penpal in the Far East.
I caught some of the words. The song went something like this.
'I'm a bloody brilliant singer.
There should be an X-Factor programme for birdies.
Simon Cowell wouldn't know what had hit him.
Tweet tweet double tweet.
Why does Adele get all the attention?
She doesn't even enunciate her consonants. I do. TweeeeeeeeeeeeeeT.
See, no glottal stops for me.
David Bowie kicks the bucket and, oh yes, SO much fuss,
but if I keeled over now and lay on my back,
my little dead legs in the air like bonsai twigs,
who's going to miss MY music?'
Tweet tweet double tweet.'
As you can see, the little bird needs to revise 'Effective Rhyming for Wildlife&…