Around my waist the weight appears
And dullness grows between my ears,
I take some help of charity,
My sight has lost its clarity.
My mouth it sags, a little grim.
My hair is now a horseshoe rim.
And sex has lost its sexy lure
What is left, I am not too sure?
My walks are stiff and very slow,
But then, I have nowhere to go.
I forget a lot, like my key,
My friends are gone or much like me.
My feelings seem to be the same,
But my thoughts, often lose their aim.
I pray the Lord, my soul to keep
But lone or not I fall asleep.
My humor reached another stage,
The babbles of the golden age.
Outrageous quips I could not say,
Is common patter of my day.
The ladies have been very kind,
They pay me little or no mind.
They wink or smile or play deadpan,
They have no fear of this old man.
It's humor now that stirs my head,
It's what is left that's not quite dead.