I thought I'd say this little ode
It is a fancy thing,
It is NOT for an old friend, more
A friend of long standing.
When you were only eighteen years
You sadly lost a limb,
About the town, the folk would say
"Oh here comes 'one-legged Jim' ".
Very shortly after that,
You got a leg of tin,
And every time that you did move,
You made an aweful din.
When in your early twenties,
You met this girl - Betty,
And from a Londoner, I'm told,
You stole your bride away.
They say 'practice makes perfect'
And I would say that's true,
It took some time before you got
A child NOT wrapped in blue.
And when the kids were younger,
Some folk say it's a sin,
But they'd hide toys and sweeties down
The leg that's made of tin.
Though now not in employment,
Retires, 'cause you were ill,
Whene'er odd jobs are needing done,
They'll call on Jim Magill.
So have a happy birthday,
And many more do yen,
If anyone says sixty's old,
Just say you're 'fifty ten'.