He was a species on the verge of extinction. She was an Air New Zealand hostess. They were mystically joined like Rawicz and Landauer. Like Pinky and Perky like Porgy and Bess. O he loved the pursuit and the romance. But the details were more of a chore. When the bride’s veil lifted his mind soon drifted. At least that’s what happened before. CHORUS. Let It Blow let it snow. Let the mercury bubble and dive. Life’s little traumas and courtroom dramas. Remind me I’m glad I’m alive. O she loved the clinking of glasses. When the toast was to nobles and princes. In the conjugal nest she was seen at her best. With her keen eye for curtains and chintzes. She had all of the furniture ordered. By the time they were naming the date. And her mother came speeding from distant Dunedin. To help with the flowers and cake. At the Chapel of Partial Remembrance. The ushers went into a seizure. Mr. Bacchus they said Should we stand on our heads. Would sackcloth and ashes displease you?. And they honeymooned down in Ibiza. Where the sun and the nightlife were hot. As she lay on the sand he said isn’t it grand?. I bring all of my wives to this spot.. A life of volcanic activity. Left him nothing to spout but hot air. A long interruption since his last eruption. Was disguised by sheer devil-may-care. But some charm and some skill and maneouvre. Had him rising to meet the occasion. And for once they found bliss but news of their tryst. Got to Fleet Street and caused a sensation. The Press was baying for blood now. They gave them a week at the most. We were all glad to see it reach weeks two and three. But the fourth week the whole thing was toast. And she dragged her tail back to New Zealand. With threats of High Court and revenge. Meanwhile his eye did stray to the ample bustier. Of a novelty dancer from Penge