The stories of their great years by them often told
Some men don't grow wiser they merely grow old
That age brings with it wisdom to them does not apply
Why some do not learn from living one must wonder why
Their unsolicited life stories of their greatness with others they like to share
Such silly old windbags not easy to bear
Their three favourite topics are me, myself and I
Too old for to get sense and not ready to die
To me just one more ordinary old windbag
I care not if he kicked the goal that won the flag
Which made him for awhile the toast of the town
Suppose he did have his moment of renown
Yet so many like him who like to waffle on
Of their glory days in decades long gone.
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