IT'S NEARLY TIME

It's nearly time that you got up off your big arse,
it won't always be, that good things come to pass;
my father died at fifty eight, now I'm nearly hundred,
how many times had I escaped after I'd blundered.

Ce la vie, prhaps some born to be lucky seems to me,
my mother died just three months short of a century;
I have to get over the line - a milestone as it were,
I'll make it, cream cakes from the king - just for her.

It would be strange if we turned into 'Methuselahs,'
a myth of course when probably it was tenths of years;
however, suppose it was true, oh no! Too many wives,
children, resposibility, having to deal with all those lives.

It's nearly time and you should do the things you want to do,
don't say 'can't' anymore - last chance before heavenly queue.