You go and have your fun;
You're young, and that's what young is for.
I'm old and mostly done;
I don't belong here anymore.

I've had my day; it was,
It seems to me, a better day.
But have your fun, because
I haven't got the words to say.

If I could speak, I'd start
With how we did it way back when,
When mothering was art
And smoking was a deadly sin.

I'd talk about the poise
That's fitting for a Baptist girl;
How rowdiness and noise
Disgrace her like the pig a pearl.

I'd talk about the way
A girl was treated like a rose
Before it was passé
To fancy pretty smells and clothes.

When I was young, the men
Wore pleated slacks and crisp white shirts.
The girls were pretty then,
In stockings, blouses, scarves, and skirts.

With dreams of marrying
And raising happy families,
We didn't care a thing
For business cards or Ph.D.'s.

We learned to cook and clean;
Today they learn to run a plant,
But I can make a mean
Fried pie, and these days most girls can't.

The world has shrugged me off;
The TV makes a joke of me.
They giggle and they scoff;
Things just aren't how they used to be.

So go and have your fun;
I surely don't mean to impose.
I know you've got to run;
I'll stay here with my pretty clothes.

It's such a busy life
Young folks are living anymore.
It seems so very rife
With things that make me feel a bore.

I don't know what it is
To listen to an empy-three,
But everyone's a whiz
At listening to them but me.

I have the Internet
In my computer (so I'm told).
Its biggest function yet
Is to remind me that I'm old.

I do not have a phone
To carry with me ev'rywhere,
To act like I'm alone
With someone else when you are there.

But I won't interfere
With all the fun your gadgets bring;
I'll just keep sitting here,
Retreating and remembering.

Now go and have your fun;
I'll be around when you are free.
My daughter and my son
May spare some precious time for me.

It isn't quite as hard
To bridge one generation gap--
They still have some regard
For when to doff a baseball cap.

Two generations out,
I'm lost as you are lost with me.
What could we talk about?
I've never heard an empy three!

And anyhow, your speech
Is almost more than I can bear:
I do not mean to preach,
But is there no shame anywhere?

There's nothing sacred now,
It seems, to hear you children speak,
But, well, I guess that's how
They do things now, and I'm antique.

So go and have your fun;
I'll stay here looking somewhat hurt.
I guess that youth has won,
But age can still enjoy dessert.