I know that I’ll never grow old,
but I’ve been trying to learn patience and tolerance.
Why? To boost my pain-threshold.
Will you love me when I mold?
That would require more patience and tolerance
than you could ever muster, even if you lived to be as old
as Methuselah (now he was
old!),
well-commended for the patience and tolerance
with which he bucked his pain threshold
to live nine hundred years, all
told—
years in which no gal had the patience or tolerance
to give-in to his tired old
pleas to pass the bowl—
all patience and all tolerance
realized in a pain threshold
But I’m borne on the wings of patience and tolerance
to the land where we’ll never grow old.
I’m in the fold!
