Retired but not yet expired
and with too many hours in the day,
I try to keep busy and not get depressed
and mostly I manage okay;
but evenings aren't easy to get through unstressed
at home when not wanting to stay
and watch on TV pulp fiction expressed
in some melodramatical way.

So here's to sweet cider and bands that can play
the catchiest pop music going,
to bars and to discos that usually stay
open to late keeping alcohol flowing
till darkness begins to fade grey.

And here's to the people that take to the floor
with rhythm impelling their feet,
seduced by the tunes heard so often before
that their brains recognise as a treat.

Too soon sure to die through old age and illness
I dread being put into care,
dependent on others,  reliant on pillness,
more helpless than I could bear.

So I try to forget my sad situation,
ignoring the fact people stare,
drinking my way beyond desperation
and dancing in despair.