In the North Lincolnshire town where I grew up there was an annual music and drama festival, where schools and individuals would compete. Our school had a teacher who was an excellent pianist (and organist) and led a church choir. He also led our school choir. He trained our voices well and we made a wondrous sound, winning almost everything.
We must have practised long and hard as I still remember a lot of the songs that we learned over the years, usually (as now) the tune and parts of the lyrics. "A little piece of thistledown sailed by one summer's day..." is one fragment. It was a short song that ended "... a little singing birdie came and took it for her nest."
The wind's got up since I photographed this, so doubtless the seeds will be in full sail by now, even if it's not really nest-building season. A bit of poetic licence there, methinks!