where do you go to when you're old,
like being at Clacton in November,
the swirl of the waves conjoure Shangri-la.
Quelle surprise.
As the months go by,
the whole lot is thrown to the winds,
lost your allotment!
the young always get what they want,
but never appreciate  the waiting game
nor can you count on health every day,
just like your Lazarus cat for a nifty vets fee.