You can’t be 60—you can’t!
I shan’t allow it—I shan’t.
Your birthday this week seems so unrealistic—
An unwelcome, unwanted and misplaced statistic,
Barbaric, sardonic, perverse, and sadistic.
It doesn’t seem right—it doesn’t!
I wasn’t prepared—I wasn’t.
You can make like you’re 60—oh sure, like, that’s fine—
And I don’t like to gripe and I don’t like to whine,
But you look like you’re more like a young 59.
You don’t seem perturbed—you don’t!
I won’t ever admit it—I won’t.
You cannot be 60—I won’t let it be!
And here is one very good reason: you see...
If you’re 60 now, well then...what’s that make me?!