I’m turning not quite thirty
my hair is not yet grey
but losing it’s another story
for some other day.
I’ve already been twenty
sixty I can’t can’t see
in two short years a thirty-something
is something I will be
come on down to Kelvin
on the sixth of March
It’s opposite the old Valhalla
now it’s called Westgarth
come and have a rowdy
sometime after six
a cafe latte chardonary
drink til you’re quite sick
in one year i’ll be thirty and i’ll look back and cringe
at sitting here guitar in hand
and thinking I could sing
and dreaming I could sing