I don't want to live until I'm 100
If it means fading out with
a lonely last breath
I'd rather cop it out ravin'
70yrs young and misbehavin'
On a concoction of mind twistin' meths
At a push perhaps I'll last until I'm eighty
Providing there's some drama involved
I'd rob the fat cat banks,
Start a revolt and break ranks
From the classic definition of 'old'
Maybe they'll track me down to a bar in my nineties
By then, a modern day 'Bonnie' minus Clyde
On the run from the law-
they won't believe what they saw!
When the cops are chasing my leathered old hide...
Just don't let a tired and sad Old Folks Home
Be the place to end my final chapter and story
When I go, let it be loud!
And in front of a crowd,
Shoot me down in a last blaze of glory.
All rights reserved
Leigh 2012
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