Old Age Becomes Me

I used to think I could think things through
Now any notion I fancy will do
My Life times False is divided by True
Old Age becomes me

So many memories to recall
Good times, bad times, big and small
Now like New England, after the Fall
Old Age becomes me

The Sycamores and Willows
Stand tall down by the stream
My blanket is a Jacaranda Blue
Among my extra pillows
I still know how to dream
Some day I’m gonna run away with you

I know Life is much more than
My limited Attention Span
Now all I do is all I can
Old Age becomes me

Across the Universe is
Where all of us must go
Sooner or later, by and by
But what is far, far worse is
All those people in the know
Who claim they can explain the Reasons why

I’ve had my fill of all the Ballyhoo
Enough of Soft Shoe Shuffler too
And as for the Young and Beautiful…
Well, you know what they can do!
Old Age becomes me…