Now I'm 50, my old firing pin,
May need help to aspire to sin.
Do a hand stand, take heart,
spread your legs wide apart
And if he won't work I'll just drop it in
While an optimist airs, lost in shrugs
And a pessimist swears and humbugs
The glass is fanciful,
if half empty or full
Next to you and your two gallon jugs