We’re worried at the way your life is going,
That you give up jobs the moment that you’re bored.
We’re worried that you start new ones not knowing
If the pension’s good or if your life’s insured.
We’re worried that you gave up evening classes,
That you binge drink every Friday with a friend,
That you’re getting close with every day that passes
To Real Life that is lurking round the bend.
We’re worried by your sex life and the fact
That you seem to think it’s simply there for fun,
That everyone is in upon the act
Though you seem to think it’s something we’ve not done.
We’re worried that you never dust or hoover,
That you never eat green veg or exercise,
That you never buy The Times or stain remover,
That our worry for you comes as a surprise.
We’re worried that you live your life unworried
By the thought of growing old and poor and ill,
That your attitude to life is so unhurried.
We do not understand, and never will.
You’ve no mortgage, savings plan or health insurance,
You’re often late with Road Tax for your car.
You sail through life with carefree, blithe assurance
That we’re not to fuss; today that’s how things are.
We’re worried that the values which we taught you
Have shown few signs of shaping you so far.
And we’re jealous that your lack of care has brought you
To the stress-free, happy person that you are.