No, no, no. You must strut about
among your lights of love.
Oh, my poor baby
roasting in your arms.
- Your poor babe? My son!
- Your son? My charm.
Mmm. Baby.
[ Clears Throat ] Well, well, well.
Well, well. Shall we, uh --
No, no, no. You must strut about
among your lights of love.
Oh, my poor baby
roasting in your arms.
- Your poor babe? My son!
- Your son? My charm.
Mmm. Baby.
[ Clears Throat ] Well, well, well.
Well, well. Shall we, uh --
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