A million times I've asked you,  and then I ask you over again,  you only answer perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.  If you can't make your mind up,  we'll never get started. And I don't want to wind up being parted, broken-hearted. So if you really love me,  say yes. But if you don't, dear, confess. And please don't tell me perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. 

Todos los sábados son martes y trece,  todo el año llueve sobre mojado.  Bla, bla, bla, bla, bla, bla, bla,  cada cual por su lado,  bla, bla, bla, bla, bla, bla, bla,