Getting old or the "Golden Years,"
those words are a bunch of crab.
What's golden about going bald,
and your under arms begin to flab.

I get winded playing checkers,
so I look for something soothing.
I sit down in my rocking chair,
but then I can't get it moving.

My back goes out more than I do,
and my complexion is turning red.
There's more hair in my comb,
than on the top of my head.

When it's time to be romantic,
I haven't got the very first clue.
So I lay down and stare at my wife,
hoping she'll remember what to do.

If you have any of these symptoms,
then you have officially been told.
Stock up on prune juice and Ben-Gay,
because you're definitely getting old.

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