With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I
shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And
gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And
run my stick along the public railings
And
make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I
shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And
pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And
learn to spit.
You
can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And
eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or
only bread and pickle for a week
And
hoard pens and pencils and beer mats and things in 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 children.
We
must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
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 start to wear purple.
Jenny Joseph - 1974 - from Rose in the Afternoon, Dent.
(Are you wearing purple now, Jenny?????)
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