The wedding singer

"Say it's true, there's nothing like me and you. Not alone, tell me you feel it too. And I would..

"Say it's true, there's nothing like me and you. Not alone, tell me you feel it too. And I would . . ." Oh, sorry, don't mind me, I'm just rehearsing for the wedding. No, of course it's not my wedding.

As my sister is always saying, chance would be a fine thing. I am actually getting ready to sing at another couple's wedding this weekend. Always the wedding singer, never the bride. That's me. Sigh.

Speaking of the bride, Christine is miles away from being one of those bridezilla types. That hasn't stopped her from intimating that she is rather keen on us doing a version of Runaway by The Corrs. "Listen, I want you to sing Runaway by The Corrs and that's final," is how I think she put it. And Mark, her husband-to-be, is standing full square behind her on this unless we have some AC/DC in our repertoire, which, in what I can see now is an oversight, we don't.

So Runaway it is. A fine song. Some might say a romantic classic. I've been known to warble it in the shower, although for me it lacks the intensity of Breathless, another offering by The Corrs, as in "Go on, go on, come on, leave me breathless. Tempt me, tease me until I can't deny this loving feeling . . . "

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So I'll give it a lash, but the main problem I have with Runaway is that it contains the line "And by candlelight, make love to me through the night". I defy anybody to sing those words without turning puce. I could always change the words so that it looks as if I have thoughtfully customised the lyrics to add poignancy to the occasion, when really I'll have changed the words just because I know I will not get through the "make love to me through the night" part without cracking up.

My boyfriend and I are performing together - it's kind of like Daniel O'Donnell and Mary Duff without the carnal undertones - so we've been practising frantically for the past few weeks. This is a tiny bit of a lie. He's been up in the sitting room, strumming the guitar, I've been down in the kitchen, discovering the joys of Murphys raspberry sorbet while studying various performances of Runaway on YouTube.

My favourite is one where the band is backed by a massive orchestra for BBC2. Endearingly, Andrea sucks her thumb at one point, while she waits for Caroline to get up from the drum kit and play the violin, which forms a vital part of the song's introduction. I eat more sorbet and stress about the fact that neither of us can play the violin. The lone male Corr, Jim, is on guitar, but as usual the camera never gets close to him, so you can't see if he's playing the same chords as we're using. More sorbet. This is never going to work.

The problem is that Andrea makes it look so easy, and it doesn't hurt that after Ali Hewson she is probably the most beautiful woman to come out of Ireland. She's all "for I have run awayyyyy, yeah eh eh yeah", and then she's giving it loads of "I've fallen in luh uh uh uh uve weeeetth you". I like the way she closes her eyes for most of the song, and I can't help thinking that maybe, if I do that at the wedding, I will be able to blank out the fact that there's a congregation sitting in Belfast Castle watching us.

Suddenly and mysteriously, there is no sorbet left. I go up to the sitting room and give Runaway another go, but I just can't soar the heights Andrea negotiates seemingly effortlessly. "Is that hard to sing?" asks my boyfriend. "Because it's hard to listen to." I don't even get offended, because I know it's true. Imagine if someone like the late Barry White had a really sore throat and then tried to sing Runaway, but with an Irish accent. That's what is going on here. There is no hope.

We call Christine and Mark and suggest that maybe they don't list the song on the running order for the ceremony, "so it can be a surprise". Christine is suspicious but agrees. I Google "wedding songs" to come up with some kind of fallback, but the most common suggestions are From This Moment or Wind Beneath My Wings or My Heart Will Go On or Yet Another Song I Won't Be Able to Sing With a Straight Face.

So it's back to the drawing board. "Close the door. Lay down upon the floor. And by candlelight make love to me . . ." I know they've got a new album out, and she is probably really busy with her solo career, but does anyone know if Andrea does nixers these days?

Róisín Ingle

Róisín Ingle

Róisín Ingle is an Irish Times columnist, feature writer and coproducer of the Irish Times Women's Podcast