I Must Now Wear Purple
When I am an old man I shall wear purple
With a silk green hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my social security on brandy and fishing poles
And panties made of satin, and say we've no money for a proper burial.
I shall sit on the pavement when I grow tired
And gobble up free samples in shops and press her alarm .
And make up for the thoughts of my youth.
I shall go out barefooted in the rain
And pick veggies in other people's gardens
And learn to not be so patient.
You can wear those terrible skirts and grow even fatter
And eat three pounds of lobster at a single sitting
Or only cheese and bread for a week
And hoard my gold coins and silver and copper and things in unmarked cardboard boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the naughty children.
We must have friends to dinner and read our horoscope in the paper.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now.
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and thinking to wear purple.
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