Bill Loughborough/ David Wheat

With Ruby and Ollie soon over the hill, for marrying Tommy there still is no
Pill

We're the world's last authentic playboys, just three fun-loving ne'er-do-wells
Our whole attitude says life's a gay toy to be played with and raced through
Pell mell

Acapulco each winter for fishing, then summer to Bar Harbor, Maine
If the cycle gets boringly vicious, we shall try Monte Carlo again

We're the world's last authentic playboys We were born thirty years too late
Though we're blessed with savoir-faire and rare POISE, both these virtues are
Useless AS fate

I fought bulls at a Plaza de Toros Chased gorillas around in the trees
Such adventures now make me feel morose and blasé as a playboy can be

We're the world's last authentic playboys, just a trio of rogues on the loose
We pursue life while searching for new joys, just ahead of the SHOTGUN and
Noose

When they find the abominable snowman, running nude through the snow four miles
High
They'll say, "Are you an ape?" I'll say, "No, man I just thought I'd give this
ROLE a try"

We're the world's last authentic playboys, just three lunatics still at large
If you're female and we think you're pretty, you're in luck, it's all free
There's no charge

'Til taxes get lower, we're all that are left; three authentic playboys too
Lazy for theft