If there was one thing to be grateful for - and considering how many dung bombs he set off, he really was - James' sudden case of the sniffles had congested his sinuses enough that he couldn't smell his latest debacle. Of course, that didn't matter when one looked at the big picture.
James was locked in a closet.
Eventually, James had to get out of the closet... Not that closet. To his knowledge, he'd never been buggered by Sirius on a dark lonely night with too much firewhiskey. If he had, he was still firmly in the far, far, back of that closet called 'Selective Memory and Denial Department'. He really didn't think he was, though. Lily's breast were too charming.
Speaking of Lily's ass - NO! Escape!
The closet that was not metaphorically addressing his ponderously unpondered sexuality was located in Slytherin territory, which meant -
A. he'd be found by Slytherins. B. He'd be found, raped, and murdered, by Slytherins. C. He'd be found by Snivellus. Or, most truamatising D. He'd be found, raped, and murdered, by Snivellus.
Of course, there was always option E, which was to starve to death and be found as a corpse, but that opened a whole new venue of worry, like what some people might DO to his poor body. Teenagers were desperate for anything.
So, caught in a conundrum, James began to hum.
"Well I'm a little beggarman, I am a beggarman, I'm a little beggar-beggarman, I am a beggar man X
Well I'm a little beggarman and begging I have been for three score or more on this little isle of green. And I'm known from the Liffey from the basement to the zoo, And I'm known by the name of old Johnny Dhu...."