When I'm An Old Lady
by Mary Ann Hopkins
When I'm an old lady,
I'll live with my son,
And make his life happy
and filled with such fun.
I want to pay him back
all the joy he's provided,
Returning each deed. Oh,
he'll be so excited!
. . .when I'm an old lady
and live with my son,
I'll write on the walls
with red, white & blue and
Bounce on the furniture,
wearing my shoes.
I'll drink from the
carton and then leave it out.
I'll stuff all the
toilets, and oh, will he shout!
. . .when I'm an old lady
and live with my son.
When he's on the phone
and just out of reach,
I'll get into things like
sugar and bleach.
Oh, he'll snap his
fingers and then shake his head,
And when he is done, I'll
hide under the bed.
. . .when I'm an old lady
and live with my son.
When my son's wife cooks
dinner and calls me to meals,
I'll not eat my green
beans or salads congeal.
I'll gag on my okra,
spill milk on the table,
And when she gets angry,
run fast as I'm able.
. . .when I'm an old lady
and live with my son.
I'll sit close to the TV,
thru the channels I'll click.
I'll cross both my eyes
to see if they stick.
I'll take off my socks
and throw one away
And play in the mud 'til
the end of the day.
. . .when I'm an old lady
and live with my son.
And later, in bed, I'll
lay back and sigh
And thank God in prayer
and then close my eyes.
And my son will look down
with a smile slowly creeping
And say with a groan,
"she's so sweet when she's sleeping."
. . .when I'm an old lady
and live with my son.
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