Old ladies jawing on the phone
Their conversations stir a panic
Some girl's gone
A student from way up The Atlantic
Her disappearance makes them think about their own grand kids
Currently on somebody's campus running rampid
So they argue about the many ways youth is wasted
Forgetting all about the dirt they did in the way back when
Until they talk to God and end the conversation with an Amen
They pace when they worry
Grand kids better call back in a hurry
It's so bad that the floor can taste their sorrow
But when their calls are ignored. They plan a trip for tomorrow