Every year we go through the same ritual where we the music loving British public have to select our contender for “the Eurovision song contest”.
We
have placed before us, metaphorically speaking, the best five songs which have
been whittled down from god knows how many by god knows who and we have to
select our best candidate.
When
you have watched and/or listened to the best five I ask myself the age old
question “what were the rejected ones like”.
After
hearing the five weapons of mass destruction I don’t care who wins.
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