O, do not forsake me, my indolent friends

O, do not forsake me for you know I must spend

All my darkest hours talking like this

For I am one thousand years old

One thousand years old

Sure you think that's old

ONe thousand years old, but what do you know?



In my darkest hour I'm talking like this

For I am one thousand years old



Oh, some have forgotten the flower of speech

And walks through the garden where

I go to defent misbegotten notions while talking like this

For I am one thousand years old

One thousand years old

Sure, I'd say that's old

ONe thousand years old, but what do I know?

In your darkest hour, my indolent friends, we'll be one thousand years old

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