When I'm 84

The Beautiful South

 Queuing with the old folk 
 There's and old man with a wicked smile 
 Not through smug politeness 
 He's doing it in style 

 No savings book or flannel slacks 
 No "Pardon" when I heard them ask 
 Just a vodaphone and a filofax 

 When I'm 64 
 I'll dream on 

 They all bore the milkman 
 Stop him for hours at their front gate 
 He just sits and thinks 
 I'll make the bastard wait 

 No dribbling or incontinence 
 No longing for the old sixpence 
 Just smoking weed till age makes sense 

 When I'm 74 
 I'll dream on 

 They all save for Blackpool 
 Just for the cheap companionship 
 Meanwhile he counts pennies 
 For a different trip 

 No smoking pipes and drinking bitter 
 No eyeing up the baby sitter 
 I'll trip up kids and I'll drop my litter 

 When I'm 84 
 I'll dream on 
 When I'm 84 
 I'll dream on late 
 I'll dream on 
 And I'll whisper late 

 You're in your nineties Arthur 
 Be careful with your back 
 Exercise your muscles 
 I'd rather Jack 
 I'd rather Jack