This day is call'd the last home game.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Geezer.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his chums,
And say 'To-morrow is Geezers' day.'
Then will he strip his shirt and show his belly,
And say 'This gut I built on Geezers's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
The Professor, Binky and MrsB,
RugbyBird and Will, Melvin and Terry -
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good geezer teach his nipper;
And Geezers' day shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of geezers;
For he to-day that wears his trews with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so drunk,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in Whitton now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That shouted with us upon Geezers' day!