| "Against my ornate bangles, my bangles tinkle..." | |
| "Good or bad, the coin is known by it's tinkle. | |
| "If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie, wipe the seatie"? | |
| "May the henna on your palms, forever be fragrant" "May you forever be together" "May your bangles forever tinkle" | |
| "My bangles have begun to tinkle" | |
| "Against my ornate bangles, my bangles tinkle..." | |
| "Good or bad, the coin is known by it's tinkle. | |
| "If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie, wipe the seatie"? | |
| "May the henna on your palms, forever be fragrant" "May you forever be together" "May your bangles forever tinkle" | |
| "My bangles have begun to tinkle" | |
| ( laughter ) ( shop bell tinkles ) | |
| ( shop bell tinkles ) | |
| (Bell tinkles) | |
| (bicycle bell tinkles) I feel so alive. | |
| (glass tinkles) What? | |
| ( laughter ) ( shop bell tinkles ) | |
| ( shop bell tinkles ) | |
| (Bell tinkles) | |
| (bicycle bell tinkles) I feel so alive. | |
| (glass tinkles) What? | |
| - But I tinkled there. - You what? | |
| And bells on her shoes that tinkled-- | |
| I mean, this guy takes a piss, I'm so close, I get tinkled on my shoes, you know. | |
| I think you even tinkled a little bit. | |
| I'm tinkled pink. | |
| "...and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass... "...or... "...a tinkling cymbal. | |
| "My guitar is tinkling | |
| "Their tinkling should echo all over the house." | |
| "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels and have not love I am become as a sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. | |
| (Bell tinkling) Ah, yes. | |
| - But I tinkled there. - You what? | |
| And bells on her shoes that tinkled-- | |
| I mean, this guy takes a piss, I'm so close, I get tinkled on my shoes, you know. | |
| I think you even tinkled a little bit. | |
| I'm tinkled pink. | |
| "...and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass... "...or... "...a tinkling cymbal. | |
| "My guitar is tinkling | |
| "Their tinkling should echo all over the house." | |
| "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels and have not love I am become as a sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal. | |
| (Bell tinkling) Ah, yes. | |
