Queuing 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 sits 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