There's nothing whatever the matter with me,
I'm just as healthy as I can be
I have arthritis in both my knees
And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze
My pulse is weak and my blood is thin
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.
My teeth will eventually have to come out,
And my diet I hate to think about
I'm underweight and I'm much too thin
My appetite's such that it's sure to win
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.
Arch supports I have for my feet
Or I wouldn't be able to go on the street
Sleep is denied me night after night
And every morning I am such a sight
My memories failing; my head's is a spin
I'm practically living on aspirin
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.
The moral is, as this tale we unfold
That for you and me who are growing old
It's better to say "I'm fine" with a grin
Than to let them know the shape we're in.
How do I know my youth as been spent?
Because my "get up and go" got up- and went,
But in spite of all that, I'm able to grin
Then think of where my "get up and go" has been.
