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The Cranky Old Man
What do you see, nurses, what do you see?
What are you thinking, when you look at me,
A crabbit old woman, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with far-away eyes,
Who, quite unresisting, lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding the long day to fill.
I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,
As I move at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I’m a small child of 10 with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters, who loved one another.
A bride now at 20 my heart gives a leap,
Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.
At 25 now I have young of my own,
Who need me to build a secure happy home,
At 50 once more babies play around my knee,
Again we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me, my husband is dead,
I look at the future, I shudder with dread,
For my young are all busy with young of their own,
And I think of the years and the love that I’ve known.
The body it crumbles, grace and vigour depart,
There is now a stone where I once had a heart,
But inside this old carcass, a young girl still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, I remember the pain,
And I’m loving and living life over again,
I think of the years all too few gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, nurse, open and see,
Not a crabbit old woman, look closer see ME.
w:Crabbit Old Woman
originally by Phyllis McCormack; adapted by Dave Griffith