The bowels gurgle a bit more these days it seems

And he thinks more about the way he saunters 'round

The posture of his father is not his chosen destination

But though his head remains in the same proximity

His chin with creeping dangle moves closer to the ground



He aims his good ear best he can towards conversation and sometimes leans in awkward toward your seat

And if by chance one feels their space too invaded

Then try your best to calmly be discreet

Because this septic breathed man that stands before you

Is a champion from days gone by



And the tales of whales and woe off his liquored toungue will flow

The light will soft white twinkle off the cataracts in his eye

So if by chance you're cornered near the bathroom

Or he blocks you sprawled in his aisle seat

Embrace the chance to hear some tales of greatness

'cause he is the most interesting ball of toxins you're ever apt to meet