How do I know my youth is all spent?
My get up and go has got up and went
In spite of it all, I’m able to grin
When I think of the places my get up has been
Old age is golden, I think I’ve heard said
But sometimes I wonder as I crawl into bed
My ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup
My eyes on the table until I wake up
As sleep dims my vision, I say to myself
Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?
But nations are warring and business is vexed
So I’ll stick around to see what happens next
When I was younger, my slippers were red
I could kick up my heels right over my head
When I was older my slippers were blue
But still I could dance the whole night thru
Now I am old, my slippers are black
I huff to the store and I puff my way back
But never you laugh, I don’t mind at all
I’d rather be huffing than not puff at all
I get up each morning and dust off my wits
Open the paper and read the obits
If I’m not there, I know I’m not dead
So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed