The Beautiful South — When I’m 84
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Текст The Beautiful South — When I’m 84
Queuing with the old folk
There’s an old man with a wicked smile
Not through smug politeness
He’s doing it in style, style
He’s doing it in style, style
No savings book or flannel slacks
No «pardon» when I heard them ask
Just a Vodafone and a Filofax
When I’m 64, I’ll dream on
They all bore the milkman
Stop him for hours at their front gate
He just sits and thinks
I’ll make the bastard wait, wait
I’ll make the bastard wait, wait
No dribbling or incontinence
No longing for the old sixpence
Just smoking weed till age make sense
When I’m 74, I’ll dream on
They all save for Blackpool
Just for the cheap companionship
Meanwhile he counts pennies
For a different trip, trip
For a different trip, trip
No smoking pipes and drinking bitter
No eying up the baby sitter
I’ll trip up kids and I’ll drop my litter
When I’m 84, I’ll dream on
When I’m 84, I’ll dream on late
(I’ll dream on)
You’re in your nineties, Arthur
(I’ll dream on and I’ll whisper late)
Be careful with your back
(I’ll dream on and I’ll whisper late)
Exercise your muscles
(I’ll dream on and I’ll whisper late)
I’d rather Jack
(I’ll dream on and I’ll whisper late)
I’d rather Jack
(I’ll dream on and I’ll whisper late)
Yes, I’d rather Jack
(I’ll dream on and I’ll whisper late)
I’d rather Jack
(I’ll dream on and I’ll whisper late)
Yes, I’d rather Jack
(I’ll dream on and I’ll whisper late)
I’d rather Jack
(I’ll dream on and I’ll whisper late)
Yes, I’d rather Jack
(I’ll dream on and I’ll whisper late)
I’d rather Jack
(I’ll dream on and I’ll whisper late)
