By the sea
I'm Not a Dirty Old Man
Iím eighty eight and still have hair
and still some teeth to chew my food,
a little gray, just here and there,
but Iím still a good looking dude.
Well, just about four months ago,
when my wife let me out a bit,
some lady smiled and winked at me.
My legs felt weak, I had to sit.
I dreamed about her late that night.
My heart beat so, I thought Iíd die.
I need to settle these old nerves.
Next time Iíll cover up one eye.
I still have lots of things theyíd like.
At least, I like to think I do.
Just how do you talk to a girl?
Been so long, I donít have a clue.
I donít want you to think Iím scared.
I still have eyes that roam a bit,
but thought of dating one these days,
just wears me out, Iíd rather sit.
I think Sandra Bullochís a babe
and what a smile with all those teeth.
I thought I'd write her a love poem,
but know my wife would give me grief.
Donít think Iím a dirty old man.
Itís not my fault that ladies look.
Of chasing one, I have no plan.
Iíd rather sit and read a book.
Hey Marge, have you seen my glasses
and have you seen my partial plate?
I left it in the glass last night
when I was staying up so late.
Now my wife still has the right stuff,
but that gravity sure is mean.
We married sixty years ago.
She was the cutest thing Iíd seen.
But even so, sheís aged real well.
I wouldnít have another girl.
Sheís prettier than all the rest
and just as rare as an old pearl.
There is more depth to the heart than the mind can comprehend and it only has boundaries when we choose to fence it in.††