Mick Jagger
To say Mick Jagger
Lost his swagger
Wouldn’t be the truth;
But all his zeal
Has less appeal
Than it had in his youth.
His rooster strut
And vanished butt
Still worked the Garden stage;
But just one look
Was all it took
To see the toll of age.
It’s fine to rock
Around the clock
As long as you still can;
But younger folk
Would rather croak
Than lust for that old man.
Is there a time
When, past his prime,
A rocker packs it in?
You’d think he’d know
The time to go
Is ready for a spin.
But folks still cheer
This buccaneer,
Though weathered he may be;
If I could pick,
I’d not choose Mick –
He’s way too old for me!
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