shake the oldie over





ya see i PARTY all over the town

ya know i party up and down

ya see cranky people are letting out a big frown yeah

it sounds so rad, and get out our fake hip

and throw it at people who ****** us off

partying is right, but being bad is wrong

ya haven’t had a shower, boy do ya pong

ya see as you cook the sunday roast

and mind you it’s the best roast in town

but i don’t wanna boast

the main thing to do here yeah is

shake the oldie over, that’ll be so rad

then we take this pill and say

PARTY ALL NIGHT AND INTO THE DAY

don’t let old fogies tell ya to stop

ya see we party once and we’ll party twice

and then grab a leg of nan’s sunday bird

and eat it and say it’s nice

yeah the party is beginning and the

best thing we do is shake the oldie over

and then play good samaritan and help this old person

acting all innocent oh yeah

and then as we dance in the club, oh yeah

and party to all the great songs the band played

and some songs were hip and others were just great

we got to the gate at half past 8

you see i come every day with my COKE

and say, shake the oldie over and

help her to her feet again

and say to him/her, no discipline please we just want

PARTY PARTY PARTY

shaking her and playing with her

thinking when this oldie dies, she becomes a kid again, circle of life

she’ll do it again in her next life

like joshua patrick or michelle fran or ben

we’ll party once or twice a week each year

we’ll till the end of your life dudes

shake the oldie over, to prepare her for her childhood in next life

that is what i do, come on dude, shake the oldie over

till  she finds her youth in next life

Born in desperate years of yore,
Treading down the life’s parabolic shore,
Age began to show the oldie older,
Squeezing steadily his figure n’ vigor    

Whirling memories whispering
Trampling tempers whimpering
Limping movements hampering  
Deteriorating organs’ pampering

Neither conjugal aid
Nor congenial maid
Either congenital raid
Or conjunctional braid

Torment of the dragging years
Accent of the nagging fears
Advent of the painful tears
Fervent of last love of dears

Ordained ordeal of orderly life,
Worsened sneaking wrinkles,
Creeks and cracks etching deeper,
Life after all, is a withering leaf.

Passing through the moments
Of the daunting dauntless days
The ultimate minute is not too far
To call it a day any day by far
And bounce back to the code of abode