Is this what old age
Is talking about
And why am I the last
To find all of this out
That my due North
Is heading straight  South
With all of my hair
And most my teeth falling out

For me gradually
Losing my sight
Saving me from
What I'd rather not find
The wrinkles to
My  drooping eyes
As the younger me
Dawn's an old age disguise

I seem to wheeze
More now than I breath
Check out my pants
Each time that I sneeze
When did my thoughts
Pack up and leave
Taking with them
My precious memory

Is this what old age
Is talking about
And why am I the last
To find all of this out
I used to be king
But somehow lost that crown
The only other thing....

Now what was I talking about?

Somedays this whole
that I don't feel
is like a hole
that needs filling.
An empty space
that won't let go.
Another place I find
myself in that's growing old.
But that's the highway
talking, because
if I was a walking
man I would have gone
home a long time ago.

When night falls
In the desert
Wolves serenely serenade the moonlight

Even the rich
have cement boxes
full of ****
buried in their back yards.

We are all of us
but one errant ****** flush away
from being up to our ankles
in yesterday's horrors.

Remember this when shopping for shoes.