There is a bullet and a promise
and one has your name
written on it.

Sod's law seems to be an odd law when your in-laws are outlaws and the day goes on, but
pirates are so passe today and buccaneers are years out of date.
( I went on a blind date once and couldn't see a thing )

if there's a song to be sung before we're all hung at the Tate, give me the tune and some words, I can wait.

The weekend waits for the first bite to be taken
I wait for the kettle to whistle
She waits for me to grow up and behave.