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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