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