Billy immediately started churning again, not sure if anything felt different yet or not. He wondered how long it took to make butter. "Oh okay, yeah. So he got that drunk feeling some other way." Billy considered the rest of the stanza; fucking queens and moons and breezes and shit. Billy didn't consider himself to be stupid, but he was kind of feeling it then. He sighed. "I don't get it, Anne. The stuff about the queen and the tender night, is he in love?" Billy tried.