When I'm an old lady and live with my kids.

I'll write on the wall with reds, whites and blues,
And bounce on the furniture wearing my shoes.
I'll drink from the carton and then leave it out.
I'll stuff all the toilets, and oh, how they'll shout.

When I'm an old lady and live with my kids.

When they're on the phone and just out of reach,
I'll get into things like sugar and bleach.
Oh, they'll snap their fingers and then shake their head,
And when that is done, I'll hide under the bed.

When I'm an old lady and live with my kids.

When they cook dinner and call me to meals,
I'll not eat my green beans or salads congealed.
I'll gag on my okra, spill milk on the table,
And when they get angry, run fast as I'm able.

When I'm an old lady and live with my kids.

I'll sit close to the TV, through the channels I'll click,
I'll cross both my eyes to see if they stick.
I'll take off my socks and throw one away,
And play in the mud until the end of the day.

When I'm an old lady and live with my kids.

And later in bed, I'll lay back and sigh,
And thank God in prayer and then close my eyes,
And my kids will look down with a smile slowly creeping,
And say with a groan. "She's so sweet when she's sleeping!"

When I'm an old lady and live with my kids.