Feel as tho' I'm going to the dogs
it's almost time to pop my clogs
kick the bucket chuck it in
call it a day take a spin
and shuffle off this mortal coil
be released from worldly troubles and toil
buy the farm and bite the dust
or cash in my chips if I must
when D-Day dawns (it's not that far)
a big bang send-off will be my last hurrah
but it's no joke
as should I croak
who will miss me
when I'm long-gone
for no matter where on earth I am
I don't fit in I don't belong
oh well easy come easy go
whether up in smoke or down below
Until it's time to pop my clogs,
shuffle off this mortal coil,
I'll ensure my life is fun-filled
not just daily drudgery and toil.
As all work and no play
would make me one dull boy,
listless, senseless, bored witless,
not my Mother's pride and joy.
And so, in closing, I'm compelled to say,
"Exercise free will,
don't wait, hesitate or trust to fate,
before you're over the hill."
Who said life was going to be fair?
Come on, let’s make this circle square,
Poor as church mice, bolder than brass,
Circle right then show me the cash.
We'll keep it underneath your hat,
But there’s no room to swing a cat,
They say the best in life is free,
So square this circle left like me.
Fair and square like they always say,
Fair day’s work for a fair day’s pay,
Money is round to go around,
London Bridge, now we all fall down.
The rain outside is cats and dogs,
Grandma just popped her dancing clogs,
Look this gift horse, right in the mouth,
Forward, back, now let’s journey south.
The old clogs
Retreating
From outdoor
To be worn
Only
In a bathroom
Make a loud nouse
As though crying
At the shoes' revolution
Of the young generation
Sometimes a clumsy old man resembles
The old clogs
Grumbling loudly and helplessly
At the young generation
For any differences
In life style or ideology
Clogs
I always wore clogs with solid socks when a boy
bought a pair today, not made of wood and leather
but of some plastic stuff. I have tried them on
walked up and down in the living room into the yard
I do not think I will use them often.
They are a clumsy looking pair and had nothing to
offer but sore heels and the childhood is distant as ever
I put them in the outhouse a nice home for mice,
spiders and other mysterious things that lurk in there.
The clogs were made in Germany, and it surprises me
how the Germanic people can make products
then here in low paid Portugal.
I think the reason is that Portugal has too many
Overpaid bosses and never mind the Indians
You simply cannot run in clogs;
they slip-slide and fly
yards from your destination;
searching for a landing pad.
Flying clogs,
other’s dodge
and wonder why you threw them
when you didn’t.
A flying clog’s
ulterior motive,
will make you very cross
and endanger friendships.
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