Narrator:
Oh, Katrina, my love. Who can resist your grace, your charm? And who can resist your father's farm?
[Whistles]
Narrator:
Boy, what a set-up! There's gold in them acres, and that ain't hay. Not to mention all that lovely green stuff! Dear Katrina, my love, my treasure. Treasure? Ah, that barn's a gold mine. How I'd love to hit the jackpot. Sweet Katrina, Papa's only child. Papa? Well, the old goat can't take it with him, and when he cuts out, that's where I cut in.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:22