Fifty years gone by! Holy bajeeminy wizz!
Nobody here even knows how long that is!
It's so long that even if we try to recall
Most of us find that we cannot, at all!

But we can get our calculators, if we wish
And multiply that thing by this one by this
Eventually finding, though it may amaze -
A number just north of eighteen thousand days!

Oh, wow. Can you imagine, eighteen thousand days
Neither one of them leaves, and each one of them stays?
Now seriously, could every day be such bliss
That there wasn't a day when you'd be, like, screw this?
But apparently if there were days that they did
They were like, well then, let's have one more kid.

And so not only must it amaze and impress
The duration endured by this union's success
But a lot of us have to admit, if we're pressed
That without it we'd be non-existent, at best!

But how can we express it? how can we explain?
It's too much, it totally boggles the brain!
What would be the ideal way for Sue and Fred
To celebrate fifty years happily wed?

Should we throw a parade? It would seem like the thing
With some elephants, bands and whole lot of bling?
But the route, we were thinking, would need some repaving
And anyway, you would get tired of waving.

Or perhaps we should send you somewhere far away
Where you could just relax for a week, and a day
Though it might be quite interesting, maybe fun
We were thinking it seemed just a bit overdone
After all, seems like each quarter cent'ry or so
We've been sending you off - so we let that one go.

Well then, how 'bout a party, with all of your friends!
And your relatives, even the ones 'round the bends!
We could make a big cake, we could serve a big meal!
And we all could get drunk, except those 'hind the wheel
But when we were compiling the list of those folk
Who would rightly be added to this cosmic joke
It occured to us, while by and large, they are good
If you wanted to hang out with them, then you would
We could skip all the muss and the foo and the fuss
When you'd probably rather just hang out with us!

So that's what we've planned. Just a wee outie-poo.
Just the family - just us umpty-dozen, and you.
We've secured us a lodge, where we'll gather en masse
Just a wee drive away, in the Grants of the Pass
You should leave on the tenth, to a Saturday tune
And arrive in the early part of afternoon.
So we'll do some out-hanging, and have us some meals
And on Sunday (the morning) we'll get on our wheels
And if I said it won't be exciting, I lied
Because that is the day for the big jet boat ride!
And then we'll return, likely sunburned and wet
To our lodge, for a little more revelry, yet.
And Monday somewhere around noon, we'll check out
And then toodle our noodles back homeward, no doubt.

So you won't need too much, not a whole lot of prep
Throw some clothes in a bag and a spring in your step
The meals are covered, the lodging, the booze
And the tickets, for 'forementioned jet-boating cruise.

So I guess what we're saying - if I paraphrase
That a lot has gone on in eighteen thousand days
And your fiftieth year, it will be celebrated
For better or worse, with the mess you've created!