We met at nine We met at eight I was on time No, you were late Ah yes! I remember it well.
Coughing in the theater is not a respiratory ailment. It is a criticism.
Lots of cosy sky That God and I can share. I need air. I need air.
Youth has many glories, but judgement is not one of them, and no amount of electronic amplification can turn a belch into an aria.
Stay close to the young... and a little rubs off.
An Englishmans way of speaking absolutely classifies him.