We all recollect from our earlier days

In stories we’d tell of the hell we would raise;

We thought then that boastful dishonesty pays

As puppies we’d pompously brag

That there’s nowt that can beat an Old Shag.

 

But youth is impatient and takes pleasure fast

But the quicker you quench it the sooner it’s passed

The longest ride’s had on the horse that comes last

So savour the slow steady drag

Cos there’s nowt that can beat an Old Shag.

 

For youth, it is said, is a waste on the young

So Shakespeare’s misguided – his sonnets are wrong

The meat becomes sweeter the longer it’s hung

You can keep your footballer’s WAG

There’s nowt that can beat an Old Shag.

 

The old ram plans slowly to service his flock

Biding his time – not by beating the clock

And likewise the bull makes his way through the stock

The same lesson learned by the stag

That there’s nowt that can beat an Old Shag.

 

So all you young shavers be guided by me

Don’t rush on headlong to your ecstacy

But savour your senses and you too will see

Compared with a Superkings fag

There’s nowt that can beat an Old Shag.

 

So stoke up your favourite pipe in the rack

With nothing so dear as Moroccan Best Black

Then sip on a cognac and dream yourself back

To days when you’d pompously brag

That there’s nowt that can beat an Old Shag.