Lyrics:

Queueing with the old folk

There's and old man with a wicked smile

Not through smug politeness

He's doing it in style



No savings book or flannel slacks

No 'Pardon' when I heard them ask

Just a vodaphone and a filofax



When I'm 64

I'll dream on



They all bore the milkman

Stop him for hours at their front gate

He just sists and thinks

I'll make the bastard wait



No dribbling or incontinence

No longing for the old sixpence

Just smoking weed till age makes sense



When I'm 74

I'll dream on



They all save for Blackpool

Just for the cheap companionship

Meanwhile he counts pennies

For a different trip



No smoking pipes and drinking bitter

No eyeing up the baby sitter

I'll trip up kids and I'll drop my litter



When I'm 84

I'll dream on

When I'm 84

I'll dream on late

I'll dream on

And I'll whisper late



You're in your nineties Arthur

Be careful with your back

Exercise your muscles

I'd rather Jack

I'd rather Jack