A Whispering And Watery Norfolk

On Out Deathbeds We're Not Going To Regret All The Work We Didn't Do. We're Going To Regret All The Sex We Didn't Have!

Oh! Full Surrey Twilight! Importunate Band! Oh! Strongly Adorable Tennis-girl's Hand!

Now If The Harvest Is Over, And The World Cold, Give Me The Bonus Of Laughter, As I Lose Hold.

Lord, Reserve For Me A Crown, And Do Not Let My Shares Go Down.

Gracious Lord, Oh Bomb The Germans. Spare Their Women For Thy Sake, And If That Is Not Too Easy, We Will Pardon Thy Mistake. But, Gracious Lord, Whate'er Shall Be, Don't Let Anyone Bomb Me.