WHEN I AM AN OLD WOMAN


        When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
        With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me,
        And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
        And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
        I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
        And gobble up samples in shops and press dorm bells
        And run my stick along the public railing
        And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
        I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
        And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
        And learn to spit.

        You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
        And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
        Or only bread and pickle for a week
        And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

        But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
        And pay our rent and not swear in the street
        And set a good example for the children.
        We will have friends to dinner and read the papers.

        But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
        So people who know me are not too surprised
        When suddenly I am old and start to wear purple.



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