If my true love visits me in the middle of the night with white cheeks, I'll assume the worst.

If my true love visits me in the middle night, seven years after his death, I'll seek a psychiatric assessment.

I won't walk by the river with any handsome young man, or anywhere sandy, or shady, or lonely.

No cuckoo's nest before marriage. And no cuckoo's nest at all for soldier's - they're probably already married.