I've posted another version of this somewhere before, I think, but I've changed it a fair bit.
Beware the Baby Boomers
Don’t call us elderly, don’t call us old
Don’t think for a minute we’re sweet.
We’re still the same people
Obnoxious and bold
Who moved to the Merseyside beat.
Don’t think for a minute we’re shocked at your deeds
Or your radical ways are so new.
We might have looked sweet
In our sandals and beads
Bu we soon turned the atmosphere blue.
Our parents were sure we’d be good and so pure
As we started to grow up and date
But we smashed every rule
We were tough, we were cool,
And we won every freedom debate.
But new generations have no damn idea
That their absolute right to be free
Did not come from God
And did not just appear
It was fought for by people like me.
And that spirit remains, though we might appear strange,
And you find there’s no easy connection.
But the grey power we hold
Has the power to mold
Society’s future direction.
So pollies watch out ‘cos we’ve got the clout
To make you regret what you do
We see your misdeeds
Which may well sow the seeds
Of a scary political coup.
(We call our politicians 'pollies' here)