Bend the ear of a wise old man and tell him what this place is over and over, you'll waste your time just shouting empty phrases He won't read lips, he's never has he's spent his life just is he as He's all mixed up and all that jazz the words, his mind erases
And yet somehow I never fail to communicate frustration it's always clear and never lost, a visual translatio
He speaks of friends he lost at war and thinks his child is only four incontinent and up all night prefers you called him 'Sarge' Sit beside him, don't you worry let him eat without the hurry let him lead, and listen well you'll come to love The Sarge
Guide him gently down the aisle He's got a limp, it takes a while overlook the caustic tone Commanding was his station Now take the time to softly smile mind your manners, march that mile; don't patronize, but recognize to him you're Gomer Pyle.
Someday you'll know how it'll be if you reach that golden 93 you hope your mind will last as long but there ain't no way of telling They say that it is in the genes but who knows what brings down our beans if we lose our ears and minds let's hope there's no one yelling