Today I made a toast, to Marlowe, Potter, Fletcher and me,
And I really scraped the barrel for words which held sincerity,
Real writers eat their young: exploit anybody, aim to win,
I'm not as hungry as I could be, but I'm famed for my thick skin,

Waste not, want not, no time like the present one we got.
Waste not, want not, no time like today.

Ted Fletcher's leds were weak, he spent his autumn years indoors,
and poor old Phil and Dennis had it too bad to ignore,
Will I learn from their 'afflictions'? Have I learned from my mistakes?
I'm praying this is not another hollow 'seize the day'

Waste not, want not, no time like the present one we got.
Waste not, want not, no time like today.

This one's for my uncle Ted,
He had a big heart and a baldy head,
I'm tangled up in my own safety net,
So I'll take what comfort I can get.