Forty something

 I'm over forty

I've got Dr Wolff at my door

Howling out he's got a cure

For my grey hair

I'm over forty

Now I'm a victim of time and fate

If I wasn't before

Well now there's no time to wait

You see my father was over forty

Before I turned naughty

You see he is behind a bullet proof glass plate

And history always comes to those too late

They tell me to inject caffeine in my pores

They tell me to believe in the male menopause

Well I believe, I have no cause, it goes

The same with Santa Clause

But I don't remember anyone getting on his case

About his over rosy cheeks, rotund belly

Or beardy white fakes

Why didn't he ever use Just for Men?

I suppose they wouldn't trust any dark haired strangers

Coming undercover down chimney ranges

Probably would have burnt him in the grate

Than suffer the indignity of a milk tray lover

Whose cover's blown as is his sperm count of late

But as I say I'm an over forty victim of fate

I'm an over forty son of

A man who's over eighty

Who's father never run the clock so late

But you can't say I've begun to hate

I still feel love could come by my gate

And we'd meet

At number 28b

 or not 28B

Two score and twenty four blackbirds

Baked in a pie,

on Pigeon street

And don't be late