I’ve had one too many happy hours, two-timed too many times,

I’m a three-time loser, a smoker, a boozer, paying for my sins and crimes.

I’ve seen bottoms of too many bottles, I’ve sung until I couldn’t talk,

Samba’d with sisters until I got blisters, and now it’s an effort to walk.

I need glasses to see and glasses to read, I remember when glasses we’d sink,

Full of vodka or port or some wine that I’d bought, now it’s a laxative drink.

I used to eat apples and carrots and nuts, have fabulous foody adventures,

Now I have to taste yellow vitamised paste, it’s hard with a full set of dentures.

I once played with Ivanhoe Eagles, I once kicked eight goals in a game,

My mail box today is ten minutes away with the help of my new walking frame;

I danced at the discos till three and till four, I drank until six in the morning,

Now I eat tea at a quarter to three and by five-thirty I’ve started yawning.

All night on the grog was just normal, all day on a fishing boat cruise,

Now coffee I take just to keep me awake so that I see the six o’clock news.

I sang like a bird, like McCartney, I thought that I drummed like Ringo,

I’d yell myself hoarse at the local race course, now I’m lucky if I can yell “Bingo.”

Now my only real fast thrilling rides, are in with the ambulance men,

A funny sensation is defibrillation, it’s great to start breathing again.

So here I am telling my story, I guess it will never be read,

As I head for my Maker what? Which undertaker? I won’t give a shit when I’m dead.