Twice a year, in my kitchen, this happens...
The sunset hits the beveled leaded glass mirror over the mantle in the dining room and floods the kitchen with the colours of the world.
This means only one thing :
Der Budding Bronx
By Anonymous
Der spring is sprung,
Der grass is riz'
I wonda where dem boidies is?
Da little boid is on da wing;
Ain't dat absoid.
Da little wing is on da boid.
Der Budding Bronx
By Anonymous
Der spring is sprung,
Der grass is riz'
I wonda where dem boidies is?
Da little boid is on da wing;
Ain't dat absoid.
Da little wing is on da boid.