Whoever called them "Golden Years"
Was talking through his hat.
Our eyes go bad, we creak and groan.
Remember things? We can't do that.

We lose our teeth, our hair grows thin,
The people on TV mumble.
And no one wants our "sound advice";
We try to help -- they grumble.

But we have something youth can't have.
In work the young are mired;
They have to earn their daily bread,
Not us! -- cause we're retired!

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