The bowels gurgle a bit more these days it seems And he thinks more about the way he saunters 'round The posture of his father is not his chosen destination But though his head remains in the same proximity His chin with creeping dangle moves closer to the ground He aims his good ear best he can towards conversation and sometimes leans in awkward toward your seat And if by chance one feels their space too invaded Then try your best to calmly be discreet Because this septic breathed man that stands before you Is a champion from days gone by And the tales of whales and woe off his liquored toungue will flow The light will soft white twinkle off the cataracts in his eye So if by chance you're cornered near the bathroom Or he blocks you sprawled in his aisle seat Embrace the chance to hear some tales of greatness 'Cause he is the most interesting ball of toxins you're ever apt to meet