Whoever said this was our golden years, They can take a flying leap. The only good thing that I've found, Is I can nod right off to sleep. It must have been some young punk, He was maybe forty-five; Whose daddy died and left him rich He thinks it's great to be alive. My legs that used to run so fast, Oh, how they could jump so high; Now can manage a good fast walk And to jump, I would never try.
I used to leap upon my horse And dismount at a rapid pace. Now I know if I tried that stunt, I'd land right on my face. There was a time I could throw so hard, Boy, could I let her fly. But, now I toss it under-hand Cause over-hand makes me cry. | I once was able to rope and ride, Bulldogging steers was a passion to me. But, now I feel awfully lucky, Just to be able to bend my knee.
These aches and pains that I have; I can't let um get me down. Although every time I make a move, My joints make some funny sound.
Some nights it's hard to get some rest, You wouldn't think that it would be. But, then every few hours, I'm a getting up to pee.
My pants seem a little tight The size is miss-marked, it does appear. And all the mirrors are all out of whack, When I'm a looking at my rear.
Oh, yes these are our golden years. We should be left without a care, But, instead we say, "SPEAK UP BOY" You know I can barely hear. |