How do I know that my youth is all spent? My get-up and go has got-up and went. But in spite of it all I am able to grin When I think of where my get-up has been!
Old age is golden, so I have heard said; Yet I sometimes wonder when I get out of bed. With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup, My eyes on the table, until I wake up.
As sleep dims my eyes, I say to myself, Is there anything else I should have laid on the shelf? But I am happy to say as I close my door, My friends are the same, perhaps even more.
When I was young my slippers were red; I would kick my heels, right over my head. As I grew older my slippers were blue, Still I could dance the whole evening through.
Now I am older, my slippers are black, I walk to the store, and puff my way back! The reason I know 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 have retired from life's competition, I busy myself with life's 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!
