The other day The Fella sent me this from someecards:
And I, in turn, sent him this:
Where’s my $4,000, baby?
“And it isn’t something I need/’til you tell me I can’t/Why wear my heart on my sleeve/When it looks so good in your hand/My heart breaks in a heart beat/And you storm me when you come and go/The taste of something so sweet should have/Warned me ’bout the undertow/Oh, I couldn’t find a better man to let me go. . . “ -Undertow, Sara Bareilles