Peter Goulding: Oh, Jesus Christ, I wish I could retire

Oh, Jesus Christ, I wish I could retire
and do some things to make me feel alive
before I get a tumour and expire.

For forty years I’ve waded through the mire
so people that I’ve never known can thrive.
Oh, Jesus Christ, I wish I could retire

and stroll the leafy pastures of the shire,
or gaze down at the broiling sea and dive
before I get a tumour and expire.

The pensionable age keeps rising higher.
No longer can I quit at sixty five –
oh, Jesus Christ, I wish I could retire.

The body slows; I’m quicker to perspire.
How much enjoyment can I still contrive
Before I get a tumour and expire?

Time and health, two blackguards that conspire
to spoil the joy of struggling to survive.
Oh, Jesus Christ, I wish I could retire
before I get a tumour and expire.