The Life of Riley

I had it - what did you have? Just aggro?
Of course, the latest crap has moved the goal posts,
we're all slithering around like stupid ghosts,
I'm not fazed, just incredulous, less interest in sex.

I still get a steak, not going to restaurant one metre apart,
surprised Greenpeace is quiet, used to worry about cows giving a fart,
I'm involuntarily drawing rainbows, maybe USA doesn't knows,
perhaps they should think about their dead or anything goes??

I'm back to the pub, are you going to sit outside or in?
We won't let the Portuguese come, they're still a sin:
Now Riley sits  in the garden drinking impregnated beer,
I've told you we should die at sixty five, why carry on my dear??

Because this wonderful retirement is becoming a headache,
pretending that everything will be great again is just a fake.