Bidou Bidou.
I say "Hooray". Yeah, definitely. Let us not mince words.
Hooray, tomorrow is Sunday. And double hooray
, tomorrow, for tomorrow, for I never understood what hocus-pocus hack at the launderette time, we gain an hour of sleep.
Ui, it is obviously an hour of sleep. Not a household over time, or sports or leisure. Nan.
Dodo.
Grasse mat, under the warm blankets (yes, I am deprived of bedding, living with a couettophobe, follower of a bizarre theory that the comforter that is too hot (well ui, why is c'pour well), and is more stubborn, but I digress, not Birmingham, but Dax).
I wish you a happy hour more sleep.
Sleeping, which foot!
in petu 
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