Arch supports I have for my feet
or I wouldn't be able to be on the streets
Sleep is denied me night after night
but every morning I find I'm alright
My memory is failing, my heads in a spin
but I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.
The moral is this, as my tale unfolds
that for you and me who are growing old
Its better to say "I'm fine" with a grin
than to let folks know the shape we are in.
How do I know that my youth is all spent
well, my "getup 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 "getup" has been.
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.
I getup each morning and dust off my wits
and pick up the paper and read the "Obits"
If my name is not there, I know I'm not dead
So I have a good breakfast and go back to bed!
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Oh, I almost forgot!
P. S...The Preacher came to call the other day.
He said at my age I should be thinking about the "hereafter"
I told him,"OH, I do, all the time!
No matter where I am-in the parlor, upstairs, in the kitchen,
or down in the basement-I ask myself,
"What am I here after"