An earworm, for those of you who may not know, is a snippet of song lyric that gets stuck in your head. Even though I listen to lots of music daily I suffer only intermittently and certainly not compulsively from earworms, but this snippet from Warren Zevon's "Werewolves of London" has been banging around in my noggin for a couple of days now:
He's the hairy-handed gent who ran amuck in KentI think it must be the delicious rhyming and world play, eh?
Lately he's been overheard in Mayfair
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