When I was a young man, and then some
I fought and I drank
and had fun,
(Cries the old
Hedgehog: dying inside of him).
I danced shy, at Washington
And I was rough and
rude—too!
Like a sharp tailed
whip, split
Never knowing quite
what to do…
I drank and blushed
when the girls called
And wooed them until
they balled;
I wasn’t looking for
a wife,
When I was young and
in my prime:
All I wanted was a
good time!
That I could not love
and leave:
Like the girls who
selected me—
Although it was booze
that bleed me…
(Cries the Old
Hedgehog: wanting to be pleased).
When I was a young
man, and lost some
I traveled my youth
away, all those days:
With a twist, and
whim, in the Wind:
Sizzling with young
and older women!
With whores, in and
out of doors—
Some of it was grim,
all of it was sin!
Whatsoever I did, I
did it again, and again—
Learning and leaving
burning fingerprints!—
(Cries the Old
Hedgehog: wanting to be forgiven).
Now I am old and more
than a man—
I found a good woman
to be my right hand.
Yes, a wife, how
nice: like sugar and spice.
Now, as I look back
at my thunderous life
No longer cursed by
the cooing of the booze:
Tidy and neat and
cotton ball sweet,
My hair now thin, my
chin: like soft limestone
I am still plagued by
deadly virtues.
(Cries the old
Hedgehog: getting tired and weak!)
#3327 (4-22-2012)
