Synthetic Medic · Song lyrics

I'll Be Ninety-Two in November

Genre: Vaudeville / Musical Comedy
Released: September 28, 2026
Length: 3:52

The words

Lyrics

Intro

Good morning, ma’am. How old are you? Well... I’ll be ninety-two in November …Wonderful

Verse 1

I’ve got your name and address Your allergies and pills I know about your knees, your heart And all your other ills Your birthday’s on my tablet, The month, the day, the year I asked a simple question But the answer wasn’t clear

Chorus

I’ll be ninety-two in November Well, congratulations to you But I asked for your age, not your future plans And I know when your birthday is too Don’t give me a season, a landmark, or clue Don’t tell me your sister is older than you You’ll be ninety-two in November But that’s not what I asked of you

Verse 2

One said, My brother’s eighty-eight But I’m the younger one He'd already started school The year that I was born Another said, I married young Back in fifty-four My oldest boy turns sixty-two His father would be more My husband was three years older But he’s been gone twelve years That is a beautiful story, ma’am But we are somehow further from the answer.

Chorus

I’ll be ninety-two in November Well, congratulations to you But I asked for your age, not your family tree Or what age your oldest boy grew Don’t mention Truman or World War Two Or how old you were when they landed on the moon You’ll be ninety-two in November But that’s not what I asked of you

Bridge

Some count in winters (cold, cold winters) Some count in wars (the world kinds) Some count in children or department stores Some use presidents, floods, and snow Or the price of bread from long ago There must be fifty ways to answer Except just saying your age Ma’am, please

Verse 3

I was twenty when they built the bridge My twin sister's seven minutes older than me I had my gallbladder taken out In nineteen eighty-three I’ll be eighty-four next Tuesday I was twenty when we wed My oldest boy is sixty-three My younger sister’s dead I was born before they had TV I’ve lived here all my life My father drove a Studebaker I was Harold’s second wife “Not one of those was your age.”

Final Chorus

I’ll be ninety-two in November (In November!) Well, congratulations to you But I asked for your age, not the complete history Of everyone you ever knew Don’t give me a season, a landmark, or clue Don’t tell me your sister is older than you You’ll be ninety-two in November But that’s not what I asked of you

Outro

So…you’re ninety-one? Well, yes, honey. That’s what I just told you

About this song

There is apparently no question more complicated in EMS than:

“How old are you?”

Ask a twenty-year-old and you get a number. Ask someone in their nineties and you may instead receive a birthday, a family tree, the age of their oldest child, the year they got married, three deceased relatives, a historical landmark, and enough information to reconstruct most of the twentieth century.

“I’ll Be Ninety-Two in November” comes from one of those wonderfully familiar EMS interactions: asking a patient a very simple question and somehow receiving virtually every piece of information except the answer.

Instead of simply telling you their current age, some elderly patients seem determined to provide the necessary clues so you can solve it yourself.

They’ll tell you how old they’ll be on their next birthday.

Or how old their older sister is.

Or when they got married.

Or how old their oldest child is.

Sometimes you get an entire historical reference point and are apparently expected to perform the remaining calculation yourself.

Meanwhile, their full date of birth is usually already sitting directly in front of you on the chart.

The song takes that tiny, harmless interaction and turns it into an increasingly ridiculous vaudeville routine, with one progressively more desperate medic attempting to obtain a single number while his patient provides enough biographical information to write her memoir.

And after nearly four minutes of clarification, deduction, genealogy, major historical events, family history, and one Studebaker...

we finally arrive at the answer.

She’s ninety-one.

Obviously.

That’s what she just told you.

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