When I am an old man I shall wear green
With a yellow hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on whisky and argyle socks
And cotton shirts, and say we've no money for sugar.
I shall sit down wherever I am when I'm tired
And take free drinks when offered and push every button I come across
And take a whack at anything I choose that crosses my path
And continue with wild recklessness my checkered past.
I shall go out in my underwear to fetch the newspaper
And eat the fruit off other people's trees
And learn to knit, not!

You can be civil to all and mind your waistline
And turn down second helpings
Or gorge yourself on all that there is to eat
And give away everything that you own
And also everything that you don't own.

Now we have exhibited the proper behavior of gentlemen
And met our duties and obligations
Doing our best to please everyone
And lending a hand at every turn, chipping in.

And so I should give it a bit of a test run, perhaps?
So that all those around me are not taken aback too harshly
When all of a sudden I am an old man, wearing green.

August 23, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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