Queuing with the old folk There's and old man with a wicked smile Not through smug politeness He's doing it in style No savings book or flannel slacks No "Pardon" when I heard them ask Just a vodaphone 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 No dribbling or incontinence No longing for the old sixpence Just smoking weed till age makes 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 No smoking pipes and drinking bitter No eyeing 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 And I'll whisper late You're in your nineties Arthur Be careful with your back Exercise your muscles I'd rather Jack I'd rather Jack
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