I measure every minute
I measure every minute
I’m counting every second
I’m jealous of the time
That’s left to me as long
As I am spared.
Fifteen years or so
According to the actuary
And even if he’s right
Who can possibly measure
The quality of life?
So it’s time to put to paper
The bucket list and plan
For journeys far and near
The best joy is in tracing
Journeys on the atlas.
Surely anticipation ever is
The best part of the journey
The sailing times
And choosing airlines
Will pass the winter hours.
When springtime comes
And shadows shorten
Out with the passport
The factor fifty
And the Ray Bans.
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