Then there's your heavy/fast. That's the sort as happens in a war. Happened to a nurse and me beside the field-kitchen until the cook leaned out to cast slops. Or was that your light/fast? No, no. To her, maybe, as she soon afterwards proved out by going over the hill with the cook. To her it was just your olde light/fast, but not to me and that's where you have your trouble.
Then there's your light/slow. That's the best of the lot. Like floating is your olde light/slow. Like two swallows of wine on a pain pill. I only had your olde light/slow once and she left, but that didn't stop it. Still get a touch of it now and then, especially when you can smell last year's leaf mold.
Then there's your heavy/slow! That's the sort that spoils bad habits. I know a man that got so improved by your olde heavy/slow that he married her. Haven't seen him since, of course, but I've heard he's not dead.