How do I know my youth is all spent? Well, my Get-up-go has Got-up-and-went. But in spite of it all, Im able to grin, When I think of where my Get Up has been. Old age is golden, I think Ive heard it said. But sometimes I wonder as I crawl into bed, With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup, And my eyes on the table until I wake up, Ere sleep dims my vision, I say to myself, Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf? And Im happy to say, as I close my door-- My friends are the same, perhaps even more. [But nations are warring and business is vexed So Ill stick around to see what happens next.] When I was young, my slippers were red, I could kick up my heels right over my head. When I grew older, my slippers were blue, But still I could dance the whole [night] day through. But I am old, my slippers are black, I walk [huff] to the store and [I] puff my way back. [But never you laugh, I dont mind at all Id rather be huffing than not puff at all] The reason I know my youth is all spent, My Get Up and Go has Got Up and Went. But I really dont mind when I think with a grin Of all the grand places my Get Up has been. Since I have retired from lifes competition, I accommodate myself with complete submission. So, I get up each morning and dust off my wits, Open the paper and read the obits, If my name is missing, I know Im not dead, And I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed.
Posted on: Sat, 18 Oct 2014 15:10:17 +0000
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