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.