“How I would singlike a kettle to keep you”

“Alternative Anthem.Put the kettle onPut the kettle onIt is the British answerto Armageddon.Never mind taxes riseNever mind trains are lateOne thing you can be sure ofand that’s the kettle, mate.It’s not whether you loseIt’s not whether you winIt’s whether or notyou’ve plugged the kettle in.May the kettle ever hissMay the kettle ever steamIt is the enginethat drives our nation’s dream.Long live the kettlethat rules over usMay it be limescale freeand may it never rust.Sing it on the beachesSing it from the housetopsThe sun may set on empirebut the kettle never stops.”

“How can he do this? If you were mine, I would fight to keep you. I would die, before I let you go.”

“How far would you go to keep the hope of love alive?”

“Hi, pot. It’s me, kettle,” Sophia snapped back.“Hi kettle, you have about thirty seconds before this pot kicks your ass.”

“That day of battle in the dusty heatWe lay and heard the bullets swish and singLike scythes amid the over-ripened wheat,And we the harvest of their garnering.”