Not So Mid Life Crisis

He’s having a big mid life crisis It’s a bit late, I grant you, but true It should have begun in his forties And not when he hit eighty two When he traded his wife for a new one (She is thirty years younger, or more) The old one was getting quite past it So he told her, and showed her the door He now spends his time, with fine dining and wine And all of life’s pleasures and joys From Italian suits and dying his roots To a house full of gadgets and toys In the garage there sits a big Harley And whenever the weather is sunny He jumps on his hack, with his bird on the back And they go out and spend loadsa money But he’s not such a big hairy biker Since when they return from the trip He’ll sit down in front of the fire For a cocoa, and afternoon kip As his old aching bones start rebelling And he ponders upon his past life All the things he has done, the women the fun But most, how he misses his wife