Poor Maude she's a 115
This year with her hand in her mouth
Its no celebration
Her drooling mug is on every station
Oh God! Poor Maude
Her eyes shut she's dead tired of looking
At the trees and the stars in the sky
And the children laughing
A hundred years on their still doing the same damn things!
Hey Maude who put that hideous dress on you
The same fool who called the Channel 7 Action News!
And they had the nerve to question you
You lived so long, what has it cost you Maude
What have you got to say for yourself
Come now we got the camera and lights on you
Speak up, so that the people at home
Hear what they want
And in 3, 2, 1 you're on!
Dear God, please deliver a swift blow
At least let me catch a bad cold
And I'll be gone in a fortnight
Could the cameraman please turn off his spotlight
Thank you, good night
Come love let's run in front of
The ever-rushing oncoming motors
And just dance
Cause you've got good hands
And mine ain't bad
And our legs are just as good
As they were when they were sold
So come on let's climb on top of
The Pontchartrain or the Penobscot
And hopscotch off their highest height!