Tom: A minor
Verse 1
What is up?
Things sure are different
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than when I was a pup.
Five dollar hot dogs,
strange fancy beers,
young skinny boys with their pants
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young pretty girls who cov
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er up their hair,
bearded lumberjacks
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everywhere.
Nowadays things aren't
what they used to be.
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You don't see all the things
you used to see.
This wasn't what the place was meant to be.
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Abm
I feel like I'm living in another century.
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Not sure if it's a new or an old one.
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A modest or a bold one.
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Maybe I'll move to that
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place on the shore.
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Not sure I can take this place anymore.
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But I'm not sure about the
sound of the sea
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That's the kind of thing
that could really get to me
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Call me a curmudgeon,
call me a nuisance
When I was a boy,
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a hot dog cost a few cents
A jar of pickles cost a dollar and a half
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Now I see a jar for ten,
don't make me laugh
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What did you say?
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It's artisanal?
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What does that mean?
It's medicinal?
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When I was a young man
there were like three beers,
now there are breweries
Every bar I step into has another
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micro -brew.
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Hearty lager, frothy ale,
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muddy brown or deadly pale.
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Maybe I should go down
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move in with my sister
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down in Florida.
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Sit in swelter in tropical heat
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All the people down there,
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they don't know how to eat
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An d what's with those kids
and the crazy things they wear?
with scarves on their hair
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Don't they know that's
their prettiest part?
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The best way to reach a
young man's heart
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And these boys on skateboards
with hats and sunglasses
that sag below their asses
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I can't think of nothing more obnoxious
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Than the sight of a teen
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ager 's boxers
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Maybe I'll stay with my
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son on Long Island
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There at least the streets are silent
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But what would I do?
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It's too quiet there,
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Now don't get me started
on the guys with bushy beards
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That's a look that I find a little weird
Every guy's a mix
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of Paul Bunyan and Walt Whitman
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It's enough to make me
want to call a hitman
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Like we used to do in the good old days
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There was nothing wrong
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with the good old days
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Fm
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I'm too old to change,
don't tell me I'm not
I'll just sit here in my shady spot
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On my bench here by the park
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Where I've always left my mark
maybe I'll exchange a couple sneers
With the skinny kids with their
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pants below their rears
Smile at the Muslim girls
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and sweet young dears
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Try me one of them fancy beers
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Say how are you to a passing lumberjack
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See if he might say how are you back
Decide things aren't quite as bad as I feared
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But I won't, won't, won't, won't,
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won't, won't, won't
Forget about it
Outro 1
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