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Good At Growing Old

Another sunrise, another day, another week about to clear
The day today is no different from any other last year
Just that am older now, the only thing I can call progress
Everything else in my life, is just a shameful mess

I can’t help feeling the cold
I am good at growing old

As a boy i thought this day would never come
I was a happy lad playing about his dad’s farm
I enjoyed growing taller and my voice going deep
Little did I know, this youth I would never get to keep

My face has began to fold
I am good at growing old

I was proud when I grew a beard
I thought it would make me feared
Now the only thing I fear is age
And the closing of the curtain while am on stage

The sand through the hour glass wont hold 
I am good at growing old

My children came and ruined my dream
From me to them them, the spotlight changed its beam
I sacrificed everything for those ungrateful rascals
They forgot about me, sometimes that’s how life goes

I didn’t come across any gold
Am just good at growing old

I sleep on and of the night through
My knees ache and am always down with a flu
Always with a prescription staggering to the pharmacy
And they still take my money without any mercy

I can’t tell what date it is without being told
Am good at growing old

Death! You can enter now; you’ve been knocking for so long
I would open the door myself, but am not so strong
What time do we leave? Can I fall asleep first?
I will send your regards, to our other friend; the dust

It is the end of the road
I am good at growing old.

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