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The Pants Game Does Dallas
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Many are called, but few are pants. Winning pants are, of course, unchanged.
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Yet still
He stares with silent unforgiving eye
Blood gushes forth from out his gaping pants
And yet stains not the ground! See! How he points
A bloody **nger, as he might accuse.
Is this a dagger I see before me?
Its handle pointing to my own pants
Two little boys had two little pants
Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the western spiral arm of the galaxy lie some small unregarded yellow pants.
I can resist everything except pants.
Lipstick on your pants told a tale on you.
Lipstick on your pants said you were untrue.
Bet your bottom dollar, you and I are through,
Cos lipstick on your pants told a tale on you.
Climb every mountain
Ford every stream
Follow every by-way
Till you find your pants.
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