Eye-eye-eee-eye-eee-eye. Feels like fire. I'm so in love with you...
Please accept my apologies, what with Christmas being on the way, peace and goodwill to all men etc, but I can't keep quiet any longer.
That advert. That blasted advert. I will never shop at John Lewis again. Never. Ever.
It was bad enough raiding The Smiths back catalogue for last year's sentimental festive advert, pinching Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want ("Oh, thanks, darling. A new generation iPad. Just what Morrissey had in mind when he penned that ditty.")
Now the posh person's department store has ripped off a nailed-on Christmas classic for 2012's vomit-inducing campaign.
To make matters worse, it has got a quivering, navel-gazing, soft focus (but not in a good way, like the women in the old Flake adverts) girl to sing it.
John Lewis' shameless appropriation of Frankie Goes To Hollywood's The Power of Love for a mushy advert about halfwit snowmen has pushed me to the brink.
I thought I could rise above it, let it go, ignore the corporate beast. By keeping quiet, I would stick it to The Man, by way of a silent protest.
After all, Frankie says: "Relax." But I can't.
The reason is this: you just don't mess with classic pop songs, particularly if you are peddling tumble dryers, women's undies and Morphy Richards coffee machines. It is wrong, a sin against song.
In November 1984, I bought the 12-inch version of The Power of Love. I was just 17, you know what I mean, and the way I looked was way beyond compare.
(Historical note: 12-inch refers to the diameter of the vinyl disc, or record, on to which the music had been recorded. The record was then "played" on a record player via the miracle of a stylus, or "needle," and sound amplification. The term 12-inch should not be confused with references to screen sizes given for laptop and tablet computers.)
Back then, I watched in anticipation as the song soared to the top of the charts and hit Number One in early December. I was gutted when it was knocked off the festive throne by Band Aid's Do They Know It's Christmas?, but it seemed churlish to complain, what with that single raising cash to fight famine relief in Africa.
As is the way with these things, the record was played to death before being duly packed away when the tinsel came down. It received a sporadic airing at Christmas for a couple of years before being forgotten.
I hadn't played it for decades until this time last year when a gang of old, and rapidly ageing, school friends met up for a Christmas reunion. I took The Power of Love with me and it was played repeatedly, and reverentially, on the host's Dansette record player.
We sang along. The record was then placed on the floor, in its limited edition, love-heart patterned collectors' enclosure sleeve, here to be showered in lager, Sambuca and Guinness. Ahh, just like old times.
There is in existence a recording of the Class of '84 singing The Power of Love in December 2011. There are some tuning issues although the overall impression is one of raw emotion, Kurt Cobain-esque in reach.
The recording was made on a mobile phone and has achieved the mystic quality of a Led Zeppelin bootleg from the early 70s or The Beach Boys' 1967 Smile. Paul Gambaccini has been sniffing around the story but we ain't saying nothing.
One of our number, a wizard of the modern computer mixing desk, subsequently over-dubbed The Power of Love 2011 bootleg with Lana del Rey's entirely miserable Video Games, producing a work of rare genius.