How do I know that 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 recall where my get up has bin.
Old age is golden, so I've heard it said
But sometimes I wonder, when I get into bed -
My ear's in a drawer and my teeth's in a cup.
My eyes are on the table until I wake up.
The sleep dims my eyes; I say to myself
"Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?".
But I'm 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 could kick my heels right over my head.
When I grew older my slippers were blue
But still I could dance the whole night through.
Now I am old, my slippers are black
I walk to the gate 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 don't really mind, when I think with a grin
Of all the grand places my get up has bin.
Since I have retired from life's competition
I busy 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.
Jack Vaudin
