 Some lemonade with ice. My mother will start to worry. Beautiful, what's your hurry? And father will be pacing the floor. It's too hot outside of that door. So really I'd better scurry. Beautiful, please don't hurry. Well, maybe just a cigarette more. Most of us, that's what they're for. I've got to go home. To find a more lucky stride. Say, lend me a call. A stranger at you.