Oh no, here comes the postman,
what delights are in the offing,
a pre pay pack to bury me
with special offer coffin!
Or could it be insurance,
'Cheer the kids up. . .buy a plan!
Make their offspring happy
as they say goodbye to Gran'
I dare say that a catalogue
will offer me a scooter,
fitted with a free commode
a seat belt and a hooter!
Somewhere will be coupons
for incontinence protection,
offered for my pleasure
in a colour rich selection.
Every day another chance
for me to plan ahead,
so I can lie there happy
through those years when I am dead!
For goodness sake!
I'm still alive, although I get a pension,
the Reaper knows that I exist,
he pays me no attention!
Send me news of holidays,
of islands in the sun,
of Cheltenham and Ascot
where a thoroughbred can run!
Money off a bunji jump,
I may not take the plunge,
but it would make a change
from cup of tea and slice of sponge!
Send me details of a gym,
of treadmills and the like,
of cycle lanes and stadiums
where I can ride my bike!
Postman! Can you hear me?
Please dear. . .won't you be a pet,
bring me post with signs of life,
I'm old. . .but not dead yet!
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