You hear: that’s no hum. . ..parlando.
They will use it in an show, when they sorta talk, sorta sing.
Have you ever tried parlando?
No, not humming, when the vocal cords are thrumming once they start.
Then you hear it—out it comes. . .
the sound of vocal calls you’re using in your part.

From your throat stirs sound—parlando.
You’ve the power to deliver your singing phonetically.
It is rarely brayed, parlando—
but not sung—it’s kind of like a bruited although muted cry.
You can hear it should you stray
into a sing thing written by that big “Ring” guy.

Be prepared to hear some airs that night;
they might recite parlando.
Also crying out quite liberally
mixed in the with the parlando.
Detractors might call this ear abuse
from the stage set.
But you’ll find an aural friend,
that won’t ear-bend: parlando.

Slight sound throat could save, parlando…
not the throaty cheers of aria air blows when they grandstand.
It won’t make you glum, parlando,
even though it’s sotto voce, it ain’t hard to understand.
I will sometimes roll my eyes
when fat gals blast bombast, with grand uvula glands.

Be prepared to hear some airs that might;
what will not fright: parlando.
Crying out enthusiastically
mixed in the with the parlando.
Detractors might call this ear abuse,
the screeching, yet
you will find an aural friend,
a near godsend: parlando.