hard of hearing, bent and stooped;
and in my boxers I've just pooped.
and walking can be quite a grind,
and cannot keep a thought in mind;
and not to let things get me down,
and gravity gives me a frown.
it doesn't come alone, it's true,
in order to keep up with you.
I've got a case of "old-age blues",
it never would've made the news.
they always went for other men,
my passions past a count of ten.
and fear the doctor when he calls;
but must accept whate'er befalls.
it's not compassion that I lack;
at my age, not worth coming back.
this battle I'm destined to lose,
one day you'll sing the "old-age blues".