You’re forty years old
Which is
when, they say
Life begins
for you
On that
most special day
But if you
drink too much
You will
certainly pay
Because now
you’re old
You’ll be hungover
all day
You’re forty years old
Which is
when, they say
Life begins
for you
On that
most special day
But if you
drink too much
You will
certainly pay
Because now
you’re old
You’ll be hungover
all day
The young beautiful people
Think they
are acts of nature,
But the
beautiful old people
Know they’re
works of art for sure
Rim strim stram-a-diddle
Larra-bum-a-ring ting
Rig-num bulletin a-ky-mo!
Ah that’s
Jazz man
Are you wearing some protection?
Why would I
be talking about a condom?
I just
wondered if you had decided
To put your
long raincoat on
Rambha, Apsara
Of the
clouds and waters
In Hindu
and Buddhist mythology
A celestial
nymph
And
celestial maiden
A beautiful
supernatural being
Youthful
and elegant,
Who dances
to the music
Of the
Gandharvas,
In the
palaces of the Gods,
Entertainer
and seducer
Of Gods and
men
An ethereal
being
Inhabiting
the skies
I love you by any measure
You might
wish to use
But I don’t
know how to express
The way I
feel about you
And the
affect you have on me
So, I hope
this gives you a clue
If I
dropped a grain of sand
Onto a
desert dune
Only when
they found it
Would I
stop loving you
When I was young
I was
self-conscious
Walking on
the beach
With my
shirt off
Now I walk
To the
water’s edge
With my abused
body
Bulging
over my speedos
And I go
slowly and deliberately
To the
waves
In an act
of defiance
And I feel great