The bowels gurgle a bit more these days it seems  And he thinks more about the way he saunters 'round  The posture of his father is not his chosen destination  But though his head remains in the same proximity  His chin with creeping dangle moves closer to the ground    He aims his good ear best he can towards conversation and sometimes leans in awkward toward your seat  And if by chance one feels their space too invaded  Then try your best to calmly be discreet  Because this septic breathed man that stands before you  Is a champion from days gone by    And the tales of whales and woe off his liquored toungue will flow  The light will soft white twinkle off the cataracts in his eye  So if by chance you're cornered near the bathroom  Or he blocks you sprawled in his aisle seat  Embrace the chance to hear some tales of greatness  'cause he is the most interesting ball of toxins you're ever apt to meet