There’s some time off for good behavior and love is the bail.

There were times came close to crimes and some I don’t remember.

But we shared a half century, new years to December.

Romance hits its warranty somewhere down the line.

But grapes ferment on vines of love to become wine divine.

I’m out on bail again tonight, a half a hundred gone.

But I can sleep in peace again. She’ll be there at the dawn.

Fifty-fifty are the odds. And odd folks we may be.

But we’ve played it cool and always aimed for harmony.

Next we play out number fifty one.

I would bet on us. We’re on a run.