what your future will hold,
like a good game of chess,
you must choose very soon
how you’ll pay for your bread
when you lay down MY spoon
you will need to be fed.
At the ripe age of thirty
you must stand on your feet,
you can get your hands dirty,
it is time that you meet
real life and its pleasures
and also its pains,
as society measures,
in the end, what it gains
from each worker and peasant
from each tradesman and teacher,
but your life can be pleasant,
I will show you some features
all you need do is choose,
do not listen to voices,
that will tell you to use
some unethical choices.
What is given in debt
by the agents of state
you must put in your hours
and be one with your mate.
Be it sunshine or showers
or a mystery fate.
Well, then listen to me:
Would you like to be baker,
or a butcher or tailor,
or a candlestick maker,
or a soldier and sailor?
Maybe dentist or doctor,
university proctor,
or a fiddler, musician,
undertaker, beautician?
There are so many options
and you must be prepared
to accept some disruption,
’cause our leaders declared
that the servants are US,
and that they take the money,
after sixty-five plus
you’ll have milk and sweet honey,
really, never you mind
that this world is so strange,
just get off your behind
and get going, arrange
for your future today
what will feed you tomorrow,
it is all quite okay
and there should be no sorrow.
‘Cause whatever you choose
I will sit in my chair,
like a tired old moose,
with my silver gray hair.
Let me say, he who climbs
up the steps of success
has a father who rhymes
your adventures, no less.