snip...
But of course, the hunters are trying to be quiet. Then there's me, solo, grinding down a trail in the Canadian Rockies in the sleet, and I've lost/misplaced my big bell. So as I go around the blind corners I'm belting out the only songs I can think of, which for some unfathomable reason are all out of The Sound of Music. "These are a few of my favourite &*$%#@ things! you stupid *($#@%* bear!" (True story.) No bears in sight; apparently they don't care for Rodgers and Hammerstein.
I've found myself in similar situations once or twice. I think singing those songs may (technically) be excusable as long as you left the choreography alone.
Thanks for the laugh!