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O, do not forsake me, my indolent friends |
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O, do not forsake me though you know I must spend |
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All my darkest hours talking like this |
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For I am one thousand years old |
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One thousand years old |
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Sure, you think that's old |
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One thousand years old |
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But what do you know? |
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In my darkest hour I'm talking like this |
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For I am one thousand years old |
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Oh, some have forgotten the flower of speech |
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And walks through the garden where I go to defend |
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Misbegotten notions while talking like this |
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For I am one thousand years old |
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One thousand years old |
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Sure, I'd say that's old |
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One thousand years old |
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But what do I know? |
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In your darkest hour, my indolent friends |
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We'll be one thousand years old |
