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![]() There's nothing the matter with me, I'm as healthy as can be. I have arthritis in both knees, and when I walk, I walk with a wheeze. My pulse is weak, my blood is thin, but I'm awfully well for the shape i'm in. All my teeth have had to come out, and my diet I hate to think about. I'm overweight and I can't get thin, but i'm awfully well for the shape I'm in. And arch supports I need for my feet, or I wouldn't be able to go out in the street. Sleep is denied me night after night, But every morning I find I'm all right. My memory's failing, my head's in a spin, but I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in Old age is golden I've heard it said, but sometimes I wonder, as I go to bed. With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup, and my glasses on a shelf, until I get up. And when sleep dims my eyes, I say to myself, "is there anything else I should lay on the shelf?" The reason I know my youth has been spent, is 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 places my get-up has been. I get up each morning and dust off my wits, pick up the paper and read the obit's. If my name is missing, I'm therefore not dead, so I eat a good breakfast and jump back in bed. The moral of this as the tale unfolds, is that as for me I am growing old. It is better to say "I'm Fine" with a grin, than let people know the shape I'm in! |
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