How do I know my youth is all spent,
Well my get up and go has got up and went,
But in spite of it all I'm able to grin,
When I think where my get up has been.
Old age is golden, so I've heard it said,
But sometimes I wonder as I get into bed,
With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the mantle, until I wake up.
Ere sleep dim my eyes I say to myself,
Is there anything else I should have laid on the shelf,
I'm happy to say as I close the door
My friends are the same - only perhaps even more.
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 I could still dance the whole night through.
Now I am old and my slippers are black,
I walk in the store and puff my way back,
The reason I know that my youth is all spent,
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 been,
Since I've retired from life's competition
I bury myself with complete repetition.
I get up each morning and dust off my wits
Pick up the paper and read the "obits"
If my name is missing I know I'm not dead
So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed.
Author Unknown
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