DOWN TO BRASS TACKS
Before I married Maggie dear, I was her pumpkin pie, Her precious peach, her honey lamb, The apple if her eye. But after years of married life This thought I pause to utter, Those fancy names are gone, and now I'm just her bread and butter.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/ESD19291109.2.32
Bibliographic details
Evening Star, Issue 20328, 9 November 1929, Page 7
Word Count
50DOWN TO BRASS TACKS Evening Star, Issue 20328, 9 November 1929, Page 7
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