OAP @ MCD

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OAP @ MCD

‘Was that the last bell I heard, just then?
Or are my ears as dodgy as my leg?
Whose shout is it? I’ll have a pint of mild
While you’re at it, I’ll have a pickled egg’

‘Why don’t you try some of those new fish snacks?
They’ve all the protein, vitamins as well
You never go for anything different
Try some of the other stuff they sell’

‘Hurry up; you know I’m spitting feathers
I’m not the man I used to be, these days
You know I’d go myself if I could manage
And anyway, I’m not stuck in my old ways’

‘Oh yeah? In that case, tell me something new
About the kind of things you get up to
With all that cash you save from your pension’

‘I’d keep my big mouth shut, if I were you
What about microchip technology?
You know, computers and the internet
I just bought one of those PC thingies
That’s ‘personal computer’; latest yet’

‘Don’t you mean ‘politically correct’?
But no, that isn’t you, on second thoughts’

‘I’m talking about communication
In binary notation, one’s and nought’s
I haven’t got an email address yet
When I do, I’ll let you have the pass-code
Then you can take a look at what I get
Mates of mine will send me stuff to download
They can get hold of all sorts of goodies
From Scandinavia and the Far East
Stuff they won’t show in mags, or on the telly
We’ll check it out; our eyes will have a feast
There’s no problem giving you my password
Just like sharing a toothbrush with a bird’

‘Sounds more like sharing the girlfriend
There’s laws against all that; have you not heard?’

‘You’d think I’d asked you to share the condom
You shouldn’t look a gift-horse in the gob
One day you’ll thank me for my kind offer
Don’t offer me advice, that’s not your job’

‘I wouldn’t pass it on if I were you
You never know where it’s already been
Or whose filthy hands it might have passed from
Think about it a bit; don’t be so keen
You have to watch yourself these days, my friend
And wash yourself, before and after use
Don’t ever give the boys in blue a reason
Don’t get caught up in strife; there’s no excuse
Think about the shameful consequences
Of getting caught with that stuff at your age
Then where would you be, if it went to court?
Mum’s the word, or you’ll end up in a cage.’

‘Would you say this is the face of concern?
I’m eighty one years old, if I’m a day
They don’t put old men like us in prison
We’d die before we got there, anyway’