The disenchanted sixty four (nowhere) man (no hard feelings & no heart feelings)

Now that I went older and lose all my hair

Like I told you many years ago 

I'll ask you to pass me The New York Times

And you shout me back & through me a bottle of wine.

If I'd be out till quarter to three (p.m.)

Why you locked the door?

I see that you dislike me,

I understand you don't need me,

and don't want like yesterday 

my scrambled eggs anymore.

You know? You are older too 

And If you say the four letter word

I'll take the money and run.

I drink a brandy 

when I'm dazed and confused

and the lights have gone.  That's no reason

for you to throw my sweater to the fireside

Urgently tomorrow, I'll go away naked for a ride.

Peeing in the garden, in case of need.

What else can I do? (The WC is of no use anymore)

Will you still kill me?  Will you still bill me?

When I go for more?

Every summer I'll hide in a burrow

in the Mocha Isle, if it's enough too far. 

(I wonder if the petrel's nest is safe)

Anything to avoid being slammed on your knees:

Beated, Chunked and Slaved.

Don't bother sending me a postcard,

I know your punch lines, where you've stated 

(so many times) your points of view

I know precisely what you mean to say.

Sincerely, there's no need to waste away.

I've had enough of this stuff.

I have no answers. I've lost my style

There's no I, me, mine, anymore.

No one will ever need me, if they ever see me.

When I'll reach sixty-four, if ever...