I Don’t Believe It
I’m glum and dulled and middle-aged
I’ve got the needle, got the hump
When I’m not cheerless, I’m enraged
Who knew the world was such a dump?
I treat the world with condescension
And pray I’ll live to spend my pension
I’m eighty-eight and breed bananas
Each day my brain goes para-sailing
My thoughts of life aren’t far from Dana’s
The world’s without a single failing
I know that I am very clever
And that I’m sure to live forever
Who knew the forties were so stressed
And that the eighties were berserker?
That 40 likes the headbang best
While 80 likes a cool mazurka?
That goodness for the brave research
That leaves folk wisdom in the lurch
I thought the old were in foul form
Because they knew decrepitude
While middle-age cooked up a storm
Not that its life was tepid, stewed
Thank goodness for the ONS
How would we else know facts, unless …
Click here for an Independent story
