You see them driving down the road,
The old codgers at the wheel.
Leaning over the steering wheel
Wondering where they are going,
Grey hair covering their eyes.
They lead the traffic
Going along the road,
Travelling at a speed
That is slower than all others.
Or they vary their speed,
Up and down it goes
No thought to those behind.
Or maybe they don’t look,
Don’t look in the mirror.
Sometimes these old codgers
Drive so slowly,
Maybe they are looking for him,
The man with the red flag.
Hold on though,
What am I saying?
Many of those old codgers,
Are younger than me!