Que suenes con los angelitos, mi maravilla!

Bud darlin’, I bin spendin’ ‘at coon’s age drainin’ – no, pourin’ - out - a few bottles, ‘n as a matter o’fact, am headin’ out in a few hours t’comb thro’ wut’s left o’them ones on ice. ‘N I’ll channel anyone ya want, baby, t’put a li’l spice in yer life, even Gypsy-I’m-an-Enthusiast!-Rose t’match yer rose-colored glasses, but fer now, I’m a savin’ Maria fer manana when mi cabeza is mas despertar. Tonight I’m jest checkin' in ta our room here in the back t’look in on ya ‘cuz I know ya must be all tuckered out ‘n problee asleepin' by now wut wit' all the sheep shearin’ an’ hay stackin’ yer upta these days, so’s I’ll kiss ya soft n’ gennellike ‘n not disturb any sweet dreams ya mite be havin’, o’yers truly, perhaps…I kin see a li’l corner of paper peekin’ out frum unner yer pillow, you sweet-thang…like a sleepin’ baby with blanket in hand. I loves ya so much, Bud, ‘n dream of you always…day ‘n night, night ‘n day…’n wit’ each we only git better…

I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine.

Song of Solomon 6:3