"My Generation"

What some say ’bout age ain’t s-s-sound (talkin’ ’bout some limitation)
I ain’t ready to be shroud-wound (talkin’ ’bout no lamentation)
Fun decades--so far six-f-f-fold-- (chalkin’ up years-aggregation)
got me set for the age called “gold” (balkin’ not at life’s next station)

This is my expectation,
not some dire ruination, babies.

Sorry, kids, I’m h-here to stay (talkin’ ’bout continuation)
I’ll gladly share but won’t give the world aw-w-way (talkin’ ’bout cooperation)
So fuss, this old cuss ain’t n-nigh his c-c-cessation (stalked I’m not by termination)
You can’t chase me and my g-g-g-generation (talkin’ ’bout perpetuation)

This is my expectation,
don’t aspire to stagnation, babies.

This ol’ cat still l-likes to play (talkin’ more than mere flirtation)
So don’t close my doss-i-i-ier (stalk still works for sex relation)
And just bear in mind that your o-own c-creation (pa’s sp*rm and ma’s ovulation)
You owe, in fact, to my g-g-g-generation (f*uck “Old-timers” appellation)

Nah, can’t flout my generation --
Dam and sire, your own’s foundation, babies.

Feelin’ wired, ready to get d-down ( talkin’ ’bout some recreation)
Wanna go red-p-p-paint the town (offrin’ you an invitation)
Who’s your daddy, kids? B-behold … (watch an’ get some education)
You better just hope we didn’t break the mold (talkin’ ’bout your generation)

Talkin’ ’bout my generation,
let it fire your ’magination, babies.