But....

 I do hope all the several thousand meanies just know for one hundred percent sure that there is no way on earth any true ultra-bounce, beauty never mind one with the greatest ever backbone, armed with a whackjob  with which to metre out great violence- even if not dancy-deft enough not to break it...

Couldn't imagine that she may have been playing with me....

And jousting, upon a welsh mountain hilltop, for...

I know not what, yet

But she's been adding in too,

musically, 

i know  not why...

but i do know: " luv....you can sing all the folk songs about the baddies you want

and so beautifully....spattering me with the cost of your art

but i bet you daren't write one about the reality...

even you the ultimate cleanin' lady....

just wipin' the arse spatter of the tourist rather than come and 'elp a landman

dig  the land you sorrowfully songstress,  lament is lost

well one of us will 'ave my trench as grave

.....  but not the way Lorna went...... from indeed the dance, and you bloody started it!

and as for you supposedly fasted-hand.... that's a sale-or-return

see if she lives up to the advert version

uncommitted only half the way.

As we riffed... that eve at dusk.... over there someone long ago he made it clear

it was me or nuthin... 

not even life but i'm NOT a cynic i know he aimed to not shoot the new wife

it was a ferkin aiming error

poor thing i bet she  died of terror!

he meant to get him...his rival for the most beautiful of them all

even if all guns should be decommissioned as soon as possible and i will have to borrow a shotgun, and some blanks....

what are you doing... temptressing me?

i thought you're pledgy-troughed

 even if, thanks

you proved i am still very much alive"