There ain't much fun in being old;
there's little future to unfold;
I hate the winter, wet and cold;
the same old jokes have all been told;
there's no young woman I can hold.

But still I'm stabled, watered, fed;
my bank account is never red;
and though I've been too long unwed,
things could be worse, for when all's said,
it's slightly better than being dead.