My get up and go has
How do I know when 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 think of where my get up has been.
Old age is golden, so I've heard it said,
But sometimes I wonder when I get to bed,
With my ear in a drawer and my teeth in a cup,
My eves on the table until I wake up.
As sleep dims my eyes, I say to my self,
"Is there anything else I should lay on the shelf ?"
But I'm happy to say, as I close the door,
My friends are the same - perhaps even more !
When I was young my slippers were red,
I could kick my heels over my head.
But as I grew older my slippers were blue,
But I could dance the whole night through.
Now I am old, my slippers are black,
I walk to the store and puff my way back.
The reason I know, my youth is all spent,
Is my get up and go, has got up and went !
But I don't mind, when I think with a grin,
Of all the grand places my get up has been,
And since I've retired from life's competition,
My schedules, all scheduled (with complete repetition).
I get up in the morning and dust of my wits,
Pick up the paper and read the "obits",
If I see my name missing, I know I'm not dead,
So I eat a good breakfast, and go back to bed.