The years have left me looking weary and gray
And who cares about a migrant from here far away
Or if i was the dunce of the primary school
Thousands of kilometres by sky north of Warrnambool
Addicted to rhyming and my best years long gone
But true to my hobby i keep rhyming on
A rhymer since i was twenty seven and in my life's prime
But this is going back some four decades in time
Well into my sixties old age of me ahead
But i want to live on since i will be forever dead
For me too there will be a last night and day
Since we are born as mortals and life is this way
Though i hope to live on for as long as i can
And die without pain as a very old man.
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