Gotta Play the Game

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Okay, so I'm in a rant mood. (Whatta you s'posed to do with Santana wailin') There’re two kinds of Father’s Day: the one that tries to celebrate, well, Fatherdom. Then there’s the other: please no more phone calls and emails. You really haven’t got a clue who I am. (This goes for so many Mothers too, on their day)

Gotta Play the Game by Odin Roark Okay There's this big choice Pack it in Or play the game So it goes with That societal barometer Called Retirement Some of us Know nothing of such nonsense Others Well Their club dues And tee time fees Speak another language Now the game Has many rules Make up your own If you wish It's all about beating That dumb death trap Called Retirement So For those of age-be-damned mindset Put it out there Youth is more than a state of mind It's craziness never subdued Give the creaky joints Some Glucosamine and Chonodroitin Slap on the skin goo for liver spots ****'m if they don't like suspenders Or mumus Eat your veggies though Fox News even supports that Avoid sobriety And trip into wherever you need to be ‘cause No one knows Where you need to be Better than your stubborn self Which is an earned right of passage The other way With a shot of Jack in your paw You're that person that's always wanted Adventure Freedom Your own experience And just a little bit of Wisdom for a chaser C'mon kids of "Age Be Damned" Time to parrrrrtttteeeee!

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