I got up off my deathbed for a last fling.
I’m wearing my pyjama top, I haven’t changed a thing.
Okay, I stole the first line from Rolling Stone.
I mean the magazine, leave me alone.
My shoes are more or less falling apart.
Still serviceable, don’t break my heart.
I wear clothes until every molecule wears out.
There is a smell when I’m about.
All my life I wanted to be a dirty old man.
I have achieved God’s plan.
Don’t cross until you see the green man flashing.
As a young man I was dashing.
Warning to young men, girls turn out like their mother.
I should know, I watched them grow, here comes another.
A couple fell in love and married in an old folks home.
Perhaps they spent their honeymoon in Rome.
Did they make it home?
How would you like to be buried beside me, asked Jimmy O’Dea.
He said that, not me.
Sentimentality is not my cup of tea.
Jimmy O’Dea was a comedian, must I teach you history?
Sometimes blue, like me not you, I dispel mystery.
Some people seem thick as a brick or plank.
Taking offence easily to be frank.
Hell, they are no friends of mine, get lost, drop dead.
I have said what I have said.
18th December, 2017