There is nothing the matter with me, I'm as healthy as can be. I have arthritis in both my knees And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze. Sleep is denied me night after night, But every morning I find I'm alright. My memory is failing, my head's in a spin, But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in. How do you know my youth is all spent? Well, my "get up and go" has got up and went. But I really don't mind when I think with a grin, Of all the grand places my "get up" has bin. "Old age is golden" I've heard it said, But sometimes I wonder as I get into bed, With my ears in the drawer, my teeth in a cup, My eyes on the table until I wake up. 'Ere sleep overtakes me, I say to myself, "Is there anything else I could lay on the shelf?" When I was young my slippers were red, I could kick my heels over my head. When I was older my slippers were blue, But I could still dance the whole night through. Now I am old my slippers are black, I walk to the store and puff my way back. I get up each morning and dust off my wits, And pick up the paper and read the "Obits" If my name is still missing I know I'm not dead, So I have a good breakfast - and face what's ahead!"
ترست بايلوت
منذ أسبوع
منذ يوم واحد
