I'm thinking of the 70's
And how it'd really be a hoot
To bring that one thing back
That we all secretly would love to do
No I'm not talking discotheques
Or the donning of leisure suits
I'm talking about stripping down
To nothing but our tennis shoes
We could start out in the mall
Since that's were most of us hang out
Amid all the teenage screams
Between all the incredulous shouts
With security running here and there
In a tizzy there about
If they have the nerve to catch us
No way are they going to pat us down
We might even get our 15 minutes
As news camera closely chase us
Blurring out our naked bodies
Leaving only happy faces
Spending most the time in edit
As we bend to tie our laces
So grab your canes and grab your walkers
And we'll head off to the races
Of course that is a major problem
Barely spry no longer young
With the drooping of most everything
Being issue number one
And seeing most of you in your birthday suits
Doesn't sound like that much fun
And how in the world can we call it streaking
When it'll be more like hobbling
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 8:45 AM UTC
I'm thinking of the 70's
And how it'd really be a hoot
To bring that one thing back
That we all secretly would love to do
No I'm not talking discotheques
Or the donning of leisure suits
I'm talking about stripping down
To nothing but our tennis shoes
We could start out in the mall
Since that's were most of us hang out
Amid all the teenage screams
Between all the incredulous shouts
With security running here and there
In a tizzy there about
If they have the nerve to catch us
No way are they going to pat us down
We might even get our 15 minutes
As news camera closely chase us
Blurring out our naked bodies
Leaving only happy faces
Spending most the time in edit
As we bend to tie our laces
So grab your canes and grab your walkers
And we'll head off to the races
Of course that is a major problem
Barely spry no longer young
With the drooping of most everything
Being issue number one
And seeing most of you in your birthday suits
Doesn't sound like that much fun
And how in the world can we call it streaking
When it'll be more like hobbling
Request permission to use this poem