By Margaret Crittall – Cut Knife, Sask.
When I was young, only in my teens,
I wore a skirt, or slacks, sometimes jeans,
Now, most of the young folks that I’ve met,
Seem right at home, in the old grey sweats.
I went to dances with all the rest
Wearing a dress, and looking my best.
Now, the young seem all comfy and set
They swing and sway in – the old grey sweats.
It doesn’t really matter at all
If they are middle sized, short or tall,
They would probably be some upset
If they couldn’t wear – the old grey sweats.
They’re big and baggy, no shape at all
They wear them in the spring, summer, and fall.
They’d buy a pair if they went in debt –
The familiar looking – old grey sweats.
They sure look like they could be mended
But, the Owner would be offended.
Most of the teen homes I’ll bet
Have someone wearing – the old grey sweats.
I hid them one night, deep in a drawer
Hoping they were gone – for forever more
But in the morning, guess what I met –
My daughter wearing – those old grey sweats.
Maybe the wind will blow them away
If I put them on the line someday –
But I know someone who sure would fret
If they DID get lost – those old grey sweats.
I just won’t think of the good old days
And try to manage these modern ways,
Because here to stay, just like the Jets,
Are people wearing – the old grey sweats.
