In the middle of the night with a sickening sound. This little boat ran aground. The mast is twisted, the hull is breached. One high tide and it'll be beached.
Fido, your leash is too long. You go where you dont belong. Youve been digging in the rubble. Gettin bitches in trouble. Fido, your leash is too long.
Should time allow us to describe our prowess. It would be quite hard to overrate. For we are the king of the boudoir old thing. And the king doesn't like to wait.