Disclaimer: I own many things a cat, a bed, a chair, my homework unfortunately but not this
Peter
You may be master of Your chosen occupation
With several strings of Owls in your owlery-
one must remember all the same
That at the crux of every game
Is knowing when it's time To leave the table.
And it's important to be artful in your exit-
No turning back, you must accept the con is done,
But now and then, you might recall The moments when you had it al-
You had the charm,
You had the talent And,
my God, you had some fun.
It was a ball, it was a blast
And it's a shame it couldn't last,
But every chapter has to end,
You must agree.
It was a joy, it was sublime,
A splendid way to earn a dime
For a dirty rotten guy like me.
When you look back on all your conquests and deceptions
You see a thousand flawless pearls set in a strand,
Laid out from Biarritz to Rome,
Each one as perfect as a poem-
An opus to be proud of though it's written in the sand.
It was a ball, it was a thrill,
You had the grace, you had the skill
To know exactly what to say And what to do.
You wouldn't trade a single day
Or have it any other way-
A dirty rotten guy like you.
It's almost a religion-
The need to take a pigeon
And to play your part With elegance and zest
But when it's time to fold the act
And your duffel bag is packed
Take comfort in the fact
That you've been working with the best.
It was a blast, it was a ball It was a gas,
I loved it all 'Cause I was hanging with the marauders
And that's a plus.
It was a trip, it was a blast
It was a shame it couldn't last
'Cause it was almost Too prodigious to discuss.
I think we still deserve a hand-
Dirty Rotten Guys-
Like us!
