THE WAGES OF SIN
The wages of sin are just never paid.
Try as you might you can't make the grade.
Came home from work all tired and forlorn,
My back hurts, my feet hurt, I've bunions and corns.
I've pills for my back, my neck and my shoulders,
No sense in complaining, I'm just getting older.
I rarely sleep now, I just pass out,
Then I wake with a start 'cause my dogs must go out.
The cat's waiting patiently by the back door,
As the dogs race excitedly across the floor.
Then I go to the bathroom to swallow my pills,
Half an hour before breakfast, it's my daily drill.
I bend over double to brush out my locks,
Took a coughing fit and peed in my sock.
I'm just getting old I tell myself again,
It's my punishment now for a youth filled with sin.
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