Ai Papi Si.

When the whirl stars Tibet chew Dow And Napa sings to goat yore whey And the norse of the Madeline Cow Mix you field lie yore Boeing to go in sync Bay's a grow in a Tristan line Coming - you? To slay a while Two feet the wine in your pain and your sane Anne, it's healed! I beg and minestrone: Tuna the lady, oh!