Bad news, Her Majesty isn't sending you
A telegram
this year, but don’t despair
There is
nothing to be concerned about
Bad news, Her Majesty isn't sending you
A telegram
this year, but don’t despair
There is
nothing to be concerned about
In the nineties we all loved to dance along to
Billy Ray
Cyrus and his “Achy Breaky Heart”
Now I’m
approaching my seventies I've got
Achy,
breaky everything and I’m falling apart
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