...carries a postcard/ won't the big city be nice/ that's the place with the action/ she's gonna have her a slice....
Between the storm and dawn, I dream of you.
In the morning, I open windows to admit the sound of rattling rain.
Last night, knowing I'd been with another, he ignored me and refused to speak.
This morning, he is huggy kissy again; despite his polydactlism, he is unable to open the food container for himself.
Evidently, he has forgiven me for scratching someone's itch and having a little pussy on the side.
Still, he gives me a filthy look over his shoulder, and twitches his tail as he walks away.
(Adam Ant; Puss'N Boots)