My Get-Up-And-Go has got up and Went!
How
do I know my youth is all spent?
My
get-up-and-go has got up and went!
But,
in spite of it all, I’m able to grin
And
think of the places my getup has been!
Old age is golden, or so I've heard said,
But sometimes I wonder, as I crawl into bed,
With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the table until I wake up.
As sleep dims my vision, I say to myself:
Is there anything else I should put on the shelf?
But sometimes I wonder, as I crawl into bed,
With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,
My eyes on the table until I wake up.
As sleep dims my vision, I say to myself:
Is there anything else I should put on the shelf?
How
do I know my youth is all spent?
My
get-up-and-go has got up and went!
But,
in spite of it all, I’m able to grin
And
think of the places my getup has been!
When I was young, my slippers were
red;
I could kick up my heels right over my head.
When I was older my
slippers were blue,
But still I could dance the whole night through.
Now I am
older, my slippers are black.
I huff to the store and puff my way back.
But
never you laugh; I don’t mind at all:
I’d rather be huffing than not puff at
all!
How do I know my youth is all spent?
My get-up-and-go has got up and went!
But, in spite of it all, I’m able to grin
I get up each morning and dust off my
wits,
Open the paper, and read the Obits.
If my name is missing, I know I’m not
dead,
So I eat a good breakfast and go back to bed!
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