When you’re retired and lazy and at your wit’s end
And you’re looking for something to do
When you’re no longer useful and haven’t a friend
And nothing’s expected of you
Of course you don’t care what anyone thinks
But you’d rather die than spend time on the links
There’s no joy in Gin Rummy and no solace in drinks
Perhaps it’s time that you tried something new
Perhaps a hobby to fill up your days
Like throwing a pot on a wheel
One can get lost in the clay and the glaze
And the primordial way potters feel
After a while you’ll gain enough skill
To give some of your beauties away
But pretty soon one more pot’s overkill
And your friends say enough with the clay
Maybe you think you’ll learn the guitar
Something you’ve wanted to do
You know you’ll never be a rock star
Still it’s something you’d like to see through
You sign up for lessons, you play for your friends
You give music your best shot
You realize that it’s talent upon which music depends
And talent is not what you’ve got
Okay, let’s say for argument’s sake
That retirement’s not cut and dry
You can always read novels or learn how to bake
Or audit a class at the Y
You’re determined to do whatever it takes
To make these golden years fly
There’s no reason it has to be a headache
After all it all ends when you die
So order the good wine, order the steak
And kiss your loved ones goodbye
Makes me think that ...
Retirement is an event, a time of life indeed, that many working people look forward to. It is often idealised as a period in which there are expanses of time to do all those many things that working has inhibited. Not everyone sees it that way and it doesn't always work out that way.
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