Went on a long walk with some mates this weekend, ended the tour at an old church and an elderly lady turned up midway through an occasional joint. Nipped the thing while her husband parked the car.
She was a delicate old girl, v English and as she approached my mate she asked in this oh so soft voice "have you heard the violins?". All respectful poker faced, "no, where is that coming from?", to which she asked "can you smell the fox?", winked, and strolled off.
As we finished our round across the cemetery, behold the gravestone of a "Master of Violins".
Cosmic conversations.