To win dough.
Mourning Wood
Turn signals
I replied.
Schwinning!
Because it's bipolar.
Through the Hodor
Something going a-rye while they're raisin' bread.
Loafers.
One is tickled pink, the other is a pickled Tink.
She soldered on.
You're my life's devotion. I knead you!
That's just what I kneaded!
They all "Feel The Burn!"