How'D I Wind Up Here??

Took me fifty-seven years, To wind up in this joint, I still wonder sometimes, Just what was the point? Seems to me I was smarter At twelve years old, Or so it seems, Cause that's what I'm often told... I think the idea is crazy, I'm smarter than ever, Just look at my work, Okay, I'm a tad lazy, But under it all, I'm still pretty clever... So, who needs money? Who needs friends? Who needs a car? I guess it all depends... I'm quite satisfied, To sleep 20 hours a day, That's my greatest talent, Or so some do say... But now I've got, My Poetry-Soup friends, To drive up a wall, And then make amends, I'm frivolous,I'm frisky, And sometimes too so, If I drink too much whiskey, So I bide you adieu, Though I don't know what that means, I'll act like I do, So it appears that it seems I'm smart as a whip, And quick with the tongue, Just hope I don't slip, On the ladder of B.S.'s slippery rungs.