Lyrics by Roger Coghill


Once we were young and in our prime

And on the razzle all the time.

But now we’re old and past our peak,

We only get out once a week.

We tend our garden every day

And read to pass the time away,

For breakfast it’s a bowl of bran

To regularize the ageing man.


Your time will come, believe you me:

Your weekly wrinklies jamboree!


Our teeth, like stars, come out at night

And spectacles improve our sight.

One thing alone fills us with glee:

Our weekly wrinklies jamboree.

Gone are the days we danced ‘til dawn.

Our hair is white. Our clothes are worn.

And here’s a fact that’s even sadder:

One cup of tea will fill our bladder.




So what’s to live for? you may say.

What keeps us going through each day?

For Jim, and Bollo, Tel and me,

Our weekly winklies jamboree.

We chew the cud, and long debate

How did the world get in this state?

We gaze with bored and drooping lids

At photos of each others’ kids.



Out come the cards; for penny stakes

We gamble hard like Hogarth’s rakes.

Now where d’you think our money goes?

In weekly games of dominoes.

Dreaming of times the barmaids knew

We’d sink ten pints without ado.

Then stagger out with heavy load

And shed our cargo in the road.



So life geso on. It’s quite a game

To climb the stairs in a Zimmer frame

As one by one our friends expire

To fuel the crematorial fire.

We still find pleasures. Raise a glass!

Free teeth, free telly, free bus pass!

We make the best of what’s to be:

Our weekly wrinklies jamboree.


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