Mudcat for President!
But there's another second verse. After I agonize and get it wrong, Sorcha will no doubt find it. All I recall of it right now is the last couplet:
....
....
That is why tomorrow I'll be walking out the door.
I'm sorry, I can't help it; I don't love you any more.
Silver threads ....
So make up something about steenking badches and a remote in every room, and we'll have another verse.
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