Three score years & 10

When I get to my three score years and ten,

I'll want to be put in front of a firing squad.

They'll shoot, when I shout "when".

I've had a gutsful already of this life

it seriously ain't no joke

somebody with a bushy beard

cracked an egg

the world, it was the yolk.

What he did with that yellow golden bit is anybody's guess!

This life that we lead is like a game of chess.

Three score years & ten is really quite enough,

especially, when like me, you're running out of puff.

Grangetown has been a disappointment

I cannot deny    

New York, Paris, London

And I get the booby prize.

2 dead already in the street this year

they died of beer, fags, ennui

obesity and fear.

As the Pearly gates draw near or is that Satan's Hall?

I can certainly attest that it's never been a ball.

There never was a guide book, a map or kind of plan

The three tiered cake of life

has turned into a flan.

We are all living far too long with Bottox, Stents & Gear

The drugs they use to keep us alive

should slowly disappear.

One day it will be all too late

Some, they will be forlorn

We spent too much time moaning

instead of appreciating the dawn.

The grieving never lasts too long

People, they do bounce back,

we'll just be remembered

when they see the empty sack

at Christmas

is the worst time for family and friends

but then alcohol and the footy is on

and we're forgotten all over again.

Oh Yes! Three score years & 10 is quite enough for me,

typical, the bloody firing squad has trooped off for their tea. 

Copyright@DavidWilliams March 2014