[JWL]

There is nothing the matter with me,
I'm as healthy as can be,
I've arthritis in both my knees
And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze.
My pulse is weak & my blood is thin,
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

Arch supports I have for my feet,
Or I wouldn't be able to be on the street,
Sleep is denied me night after night,
But every morning I find I'm alright.
My memory is failing, my head's in a spin,
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.
The moral of this as my tale I unfold -
That for you & me who are growing old,
It's better to say ""I'm fine" with a grin,
Than to let folks know the shape we are in.

How do I know that my youth is all spent,
Well my 'get up & go' has got up & went,
But I really don't mind when I think with a grin,
Of all the grand places my 'Get up' has bin.

Old age is golden I've heard it said,
But, sometimes I wonder as I get into bed,
With my ears in the drawer, and my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the table until I wake up.
Ere sleep overtakes me, I say to myself,
"Is there anything else I could lay on the shelf?"

When I was young my slippers were red,
I could kick my heels over my head,
When I was 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 store & puff my way back.

I get up each morning & dust off my wits
And pick up the paper & read the 'Obits',
If my name is still missing I know I'm not dead,
So I have a good breakfast & go back to bed.