Turn Around - Part Three

I heard an ancient hippie
tell his bride of seventeen,
"Anyone who looked at you
would know just what I mean:
if you were ten years older,
(I'm certain this is true.)
they'd still put me in jail
for what I want to do to you."

I had to grab the bastard
by his worn and frayed lapels.
I screamed, "You'll find your comfort
in the bowels of Hippie Hell!"
I've yet to meet the relic
with the courage to confess
that when he was a younger man,
he lost his Dad's address.

Turn around:
three score five,
and I don't hear a sound.

Turn around:
three score five,
and I don;t hear a sound.