WARNING
Jenny Joseph
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat
which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy
and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I
shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and
press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in the slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three
pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and
pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent
and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have
friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now!
So people who know
me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear
purple.
Lyn Cowan, Ruby at the Fair
Credence Clearwater Revival
