I want to adopt an old-timer,
A jolly, kind old fellow,
His socks would never match,
And his sweater would be yellow.
He would tell me stories,
About the good ol’ days.
We’d inch around town,
In his 59 Chevrolet.
We would go fly-fishing,
And he’d wear flannel tops.
He would call me youngster
And I would call him Pops.
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 1:32 PM UTC
I want to adopt an old-timer,
A jolly, kind old fellow,
His socks would never match,
And his sweater would be yellow.
He would tell me stories,
About the good ol’ days.
We’d inch around town,
In his 59 Chevrolet.
We would go fly-fishing,
And he’d wear flannel tops.
He would call me youngster
And I would call him Pops.
Request permission to use this poem