• Middle aged and forty

    The old age of youth and the youth of old age
    At forty arrives the unfortunate stage

    There’s a starting of senior moments
    As you linger half way on the stair
    Unable to think if you’re on the way UP
    Or you’re on the way DOWN but you don’t really care

    And you find that you wildest fantasy
    Is having JUST nothing to do
    When the telephone rings on a Saturday night
    And you pray that it isn’t for you

    And you know that the clock is now ticking
    And you see the familiar signs
    That your death is NOW on the horizon
    And your living on limited time

    But it’s easy to start getting negative
    It’s easy to foster a middle aged frown
    But stop for a moment and have some perspective
    Chillax, take it easy, don’t put yourself down

    Because wait till you find yourself fifty
    And you’re drifting along with no clue
    Clutching your Norwegian rambling poles
    On your permanent search for the loo

    And you look back to when you were forty
    And remember the spring in your stride
    Back to when you could break wind with confidence
    With no fear of a chocolate landslide

    Yes the secret is live for the moment
    Don’t worry your self round the bend
    And if in doubt watch the stone Roses
    and thank god that you don’t look like them