When I get older
(And older
And older
And older
And older
And older)
Losin’ my hair
(And my teeth
And my eyesight
And my hearin’
And my coordination
And my keys where did I put that again
And my memory)
Will you still be sendin’ me a valentine
(Fan mail
Offer of marriage
Court case
More fan mail
More more fan mail
Even more fan mail)
Birthday greetings, bottle of
(Alcohol-reduced
Medically-approved)
wine?
Will you still need me
Will you still feed me
(Will you remember to give me the white pills in the morning and the green pills in the evening and none of the blue pills except every Wednesday)
When I’m
70?
Happy birthday, Paul.
2 comments:
Um, earworm infection?
No, deep loathing of Paul McCartney.
Post a Comment