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Silly Old Man

I’m a silly old man walking in the rain
And I’ll keep on walking till I’m young again
Tapping on your windows banging on your doors
I’m a rich young silly old man

I’m a rich old man, as silly as can be
But I can afford eccentricity
You know your only crazy
When you haven’t got a bean
I’m a rich young happy old man

Oh oh, you don’t need to worry
Oh oh, when you’re as silly as me

I’m a young old man playing in the snow
Laughing with children, slipping to and fro
If you got the time now
Come and join the fun
With a rich young funny old man

I’m a tired old man though I don’t even know
When I fall asleep, all my tiredness will go
If I wake up in the morning, I’ll start my day again
As a happy old silly young man

I’m a simple old man not a care in the world
Exquisitely implicit with my hair done up in curls
I’m a skateboard papa getting on down
I’m a happy old silly free man


I have a soft spot for eccentrics, with my father and grandfather falling firmly into this category. Grandfather Nemo used to start his day by walking down the garden path making chicken noises and flapping his imaginary wings. I was told it was more of a satire aimed at machismo rather than an indication of insanity. My father used to watch television with a cushion on his head whilst reading a book which used to incense us when we wanted to watch another channel. He insisted he could do both, so we tested him from time to time, only to find it was true. I have to say that later in life, I did find something comforting about sitting with a cushion on my head, and I recommend you at least give it a try.

I was thinking about my dear old dad while I wrote this song, but I can’t say it is about him. I had in mind some of the characters I saw at Venice Beach in Los Angeles, and in particular, Skateboard Mama, an eighty-year-old grandmother dressed in her best hippy gear, skateboarding up and down the beach every day.