A voiced cracked by age
Fingers contorted by time
Joints just the same
But all that is a lie

The drink helps loosen your tongue
As tales untold spill out
How did this go on?
And nothing done about?

"Golden generation" They say
The best of us still now
But what if you were to replay
The whos, the whats, the hows

That knock on your door
A pleasant smile and a nod
Well-meaning you were sure
If - just a little - odd...

It's the fifties though and that's that
You oblige him to come in
Like a gent removes his hat
To reveal a wolfish grin

"Show me upstairs, if you would" he demands
Your eyes look away as you recall
And the scars now show as trembling hands
As you say, "That was all".

It's hard to know what to say at times like this
Report it you should (have) do or done
But shoulds and coulds won't change what is
There are few battles left to be won
So as our talk comes to a close,
I sit, I nod, I think and...