(To the tune of Steppenwolf's "Born to be Wild")
Get my three-wheel tryke
Head out on the highway
Looking for my dentures
And the coupon that I saved
Gonna hit the Early Bird Special
Steal sugar packets and the butter plate
Complain to the manager, baby
Then I’ll be back by eight
Crawling like a turtle
Backing up the traffic
Taking up two lanes
And making young folks spastic
We fought Adolph Hilter, baby
Screw the Boomers who don't wanna save
Gonna spend the gummint’s money
Take it all to the grave!
Like a true World War II child
We were born
Born to be retired
Gonna drive so slow
Ain’t never gonna go
Born to be retired
Born to be retired
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