Sunday, June 20, 2010


When I was a youth, and still in my prime,
As we used to say, full of Old Ned,
I remember the way we fellows went out
On the town, and painted it red.

We knew how the morning after would feel,
But very little difference it made;
We accepted the face as a matter of course,
The fiddler, he had to be paid.

We did it again each Saturday night,
Made whoopee till one, two or three;
Taking the view, the fun that we had
Was worth all the headaches to be.

A lot of water has gone over the dam,
Father Time has taken his due.
And now, I discover, I'm looking at things
From a slightly different view.

I hate to complain or be grumpy, although
I'll have to admit I deplore
That morning after feeling, when I
Have done nothing the evening before!

--Square Marbles (1978)

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