For a man of my age, I should no longer dream
Of pretty young fillies, quite naughty it seems
But we don't lose the joy to gawk and to stare
When the sweet scent of female fills up the air
Sure hope I don't lose it, this wonderful feeling
While sneakily snatching looks that I am stealing
Girls are aware of the scene they're creating
Of many great memories this sight is relating
The happiest times when we all were much younger
These precious memories haven't lost their thunder
When seeing an old codger hardly able to walk
Still straining his eyes, to stare and to gawk
That primordial instinct is never far away
It still hangs around till our very last day
So all my buckaroonies please do take heart
At one hundred years old it can still joy impart
Trust me I'm honest as the day is long
Life still keeps singing its same old sweet song
Obsessed... I guess you could say that I am
Gonna keep on a-gawking for as long as I can
He is a guru the other ducks said
Sitting there in silence like stop sign red.
Are you sure he’s okay? I think he looks dead.
Shhh! They told the brown goose named Old Fred.
Why are his fingers put into circles like that?
We are unsure said a dog, a mouse and a cat.
Animals were coming all over to take a big peek.
The guru mallard finally gave up and left Bogger’s Creek.
Forty-eight, sixty-eight, eighty-eight
Age has no bearing whatsoever
When it comes to a gorgeous young filly
As long as she's breathing, that's all we need
When the time we have left gets short
We must use the time remaining
To drink in all the beauty that life has to offer
At the risk of sounding like a dirty old man
Please excuse my verbosity
I'm just trying to explain the working's
Of an old man's mind or ANY man's mind
Gorgeous women were always meant to be
Admired, gawked at and drooled over
Plain and simple... it's why we exist!
So here's to gawking, may I gawk forever
It sends shivers down to my toesies
With each sweetie that prances by
My wiggler starts wiggling
And puffs of smoke stream outta my ears
detrimental
dented mental
meant well
***
Sixteen, thirty-six, sixty-six, eighty-one
Age has no bearing, gawking's a sport for everyone
When a filly walks by
We bug out our eyes
We have trouble breathing, we come undone
For a man of my age, I should no longer dream
Of pretty young fillies, quite naughty it seems
We don't lose the joy to gawk and to stare
When the sweet scent of female fills up the air
Sure hope I don't lose it, this wonderful feeling
While sneakily snatching a look I am stealing
Girls are aware of the scene they're creating
Of many great memories this sight is relating
The happiest times when we all were much younger
These precious memories haven't lost their thunder
When seeing an old codger hardly able to walk
Still straining his eyes, to stare and to gawk
That primordial instinct is never far away
It still hangs around till our very last day
So all my buckaroonies please do take heart
At one hundred years old it can still joy impart
Trust me I'm honest as the day is long
Life still keeps singing its same old sweet song
Obsessed... I guess you could say that I am
Gonna keep on a-gawking for as long as I can
© Jack Ellison 2015
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