Old age bestows a blessed gift
 Young men shall never know―
So many things taboo for them
 For me are apropos.

I wear old slippers to the store
 With socks that never match,
And when I itch, no matter where,
 I dig down deep and scratch.

Or if my neighbor's backyard bash
 Becomes a bit too bland,
I yawn and ask to be excused
 And know they'll understand.

I dine at fancy restaurants
 But eat the coupon steak,
Then sing myself a birthday song
 So they'll bring me some cake.

I tip all waiters 10%
 Without explaining why,
And if the dinner gives me gas,
 I boldly let it fly!

No, I don't mind the passing years
 Now that I've found the key―
These waning days and silver hair
 Have set my spirit free!