Mum won't like it, Uncle Arthur

A grand don't come for free

A raging torrent of emotion that even nature can't control

The one infallible sign of civilisation and enlightenment

Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay, that made the breeze to blow!

And the way the sunlight plays upon her hair

You don't win friends with salad

Now raise your goblet of rock. It's a toast to those who rock!

Got the one and only walking, talking, living doll

I have shed pewter tears! It is too melancholy!