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@convictor | |
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My days of youth are over My torch of life burnt out What used to be my sex appeal Is now a water spout Time was when of its own accord T'would from my trouser spring But now it takes me all my time To find the blasted thing It used to be amusing The way it would behave As every morning early It stood to watch me shave But as old age now approaches It fair gives me the blues To see it hang its withered head And watch me clean my shoes  |
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15
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@convictor | 16 April 15 |
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Any others?
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@rose01 | 16 April 15 |
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No, just you
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@bozzalad | 16 April 15 |
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My forgetter's getting better. But my rememberer is broke. To you that may seem funny But, to me, that is no joke. For when I'm 'here' I'm wondering If I really should be 'there' And, when I try to think it through, I haven't got a prayer! Often times I walk into a room, Say what am I here for? I wrack my brain, but all in vain A zero, is my score.
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@bozzalad | 16 April 15 |
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At times I put something away Where it is safe, but, Gee! The person it is safest from Is, generally, me! When shopping I may see someone, Say Hi and have a chat, Then, when the person walks away I ask myself, who was that? Yes, my forgetter's getting better While my rememberer is broke, And it's driving me plumb crazy And that isn't any joke.
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@bozzalad | 16 April 15 |
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I'm getting old I'm in despair I've found my first grey pubic hair I'm fast asleep by half past 10 I'm never gonna see my teens again. It won't be long until I'm gone When father time will have won My pipe and slippers wait for me It's, bingo, crib and cups of tea.
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@bozzalad | 16 April 15 |
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I'm wearing beige, and a cardigan The musics hell on radio one I just think about vapour rubs Saga magazines, and bowling clubs. I want to live till I'm 99 Where's it gone, this life of mine How can it be, that at 43 I think of retirement beside the sea.
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@bozzalad | 16 April 15 |
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The downward spiral has begun The musics hell on radio one The only thing, that's left to do Is to tune my dial to radio two.
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@bozzalad | 16 April 15 |
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How do I know that my youth is all spent? Well, my get up and go has got up and went, But in spite of it all I am able to grin. When I think of the places my get up has been. Old age is golden, So I've heard said But sometimes I wonder, as I get into bed. With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup And my eyes on the table until I wake up.
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@eyesore | 16 April 15 |
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my w*lly is wrinkled, her vag is broke. I would love a good diddle but I've forgot how to poke
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@bozzalad | 16 April 15 |
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Ere sleep dims my eyes I say to myself Is there anything else I can put on the shelf? And I'm happy to say as I close the door My friends are the same, perhaps even more. When I was a young thing my slippers were red, I could kick my heels as high as my head. Then when I was older, my slippers were blue, But still I could walk the whole day through.
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