When I was a kid I could run really fast.
If I were to race now I bet I’d be last.
It’s simply inevitable if I may be so bold,
This must be what it’s like to get old.
But they say you get wiser with each passing year.
What? What’d you say? I couldn’t quite hear.
So what if this room’s just a little bit cold.
It’s okay. I don’t mind getting old.
For so many memories from which I can glean,
The kids and the grand kids and the places I’ve seen.
So thanks God! My demise is temporarily on hold
and the alternative to gladly getting old.