Lyrics:
Queueing with the old folkThere's and old man with a wicked smileNot through smug politenessHe's doing it in styleNo savings book or flannel slacksNo 'Pardon' when I heard them askJust a vodaphone and a filofaxWhen I'm 64I'll dream onThey all bore the milkmanStop him for hours at their front gateHe just sists and thinksI'll make the bastard waitNo dribbling or incontinenceNo longing for the old sixpenceJust smoking weed till age makes senseWhen I'm 74I'll dream onThey all save for BlackpoolJust for the cheap companionshipMeanwhile he counts penniesFor a different tripNo smoking pipes and drinking bitterNo eyeing up the baby sitterI'll trip up kids and I'll drop my litterWhen I'm 84I'll dream onWhen I'm 84I'll dream on lateI'll dream onAnd I'll whisper lateYou're in your nineties ArthurBe careful with your backExercise your musclesI'd rather JackI'd rather Jack