[BRISK PATTER] [FULLY-SUNG]They say the universe is expanding... Well, I’ve done my own research, and I can tell you It’s not expanding. It’s contracting! around the shoulders of a twenty-something young man in a VERY tight tee The boys are out. The boys are very, very out aND EVERYTHING JUST STIRS.. ALIVE...vThe boys are out. The boys have just arrived Oh, the young men, the young men, the beautifully unburdened, unsubtle men They haven’t read a single book, they haven’t learned to cook,. Look: their talk is mostly of “bro” and “dude” and the occasional “awesome!” They have the confidence of puppies and the grace of falling bricks But they’re a full-body collage of every one of my old tricks. Oh, the young men, the young men, the beautifully unburdened, unsubtle men Their vanity’s a bonfire and I’m warming up my hands again. They’ll post a shirtless selfie with a caption “feeling blessed” And I’ll double-tap from my chaise longue while I’m, let’s say, “getting dressed.” They’ll say, “you look great, by the way,” with a guileless little grin— And I’ll think, “I know, dear, but the real art’s in the frame you’re standing in.” The boys are very, very out The boys are out. The other night, my friend says to me—she says, “Darling, don’t you find it… undignified?” And I said, “Dignity is a corset, sweetheart. And I’ve been holding my breath since my last period.” And I know the clock is ticking, I can hear the gentle chime, That I’m robbing from the collagen and I'm stealing from the prime. So let the cynics call it cougardom, let them sneer and let them hiss, They can keep their precious dignity—I’ll take a younger kiss I’ll take the clumsy passion and I’ll take the glorious mess, And I’ll thank the god of appetites that I can still say... yes! The world is their oyster and I’m shucking on the half-shell, and again Oh, the young men, the young men, the beautifully unburdened, unsubtle men .... yes!
