Queuing with the old folk There's and old man with a wicked smile Not through smug politeness
No savings book or flannel slacks No "Pardon" when I heard them ask Just a vodaphone and a filofax
They all bore the milkman Stop him for hours at their front gate I'll make the bastard wait
No dribbling or incontinence No longing for the old sixpence Just smoking weed till age makes sense
They all save for Blackpool Just for the cheap companionship Meanwhile he counts pennies
No smoking pipes and drinking bitter No eyeing up the baby sitter I'll trip up kids and I'll drop my litter
You're in your nineties Arthur Be careful with your back More from Beautiful South