Somewhere in a room above them, a woman gently crooned the tune of a lullaby.

That's what that old woman crooned to me.

The two women babbled and crooned at him.

In a cubicle beyond the curtain the old woman was crooning herself to sleep.

The woman was crooning to the child with soft, weird sounds.

"Transvestites, sweetie," crooned a fat woman sitting at the bar downing a vodka.

A woman crooned about love and moonlight.

"Oh no you don't," the woman croons as she watches more important images array themselves across another magic wall.

The woman mounted in front of me and crooned to the stick.

"Like a little bud o' silk," the old woman crooned, and her meddling fingers moved faster.