There is nothing whatever the matter with me.
I'm just as healthy as 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 eventually have to come out,
And my diet ... I hate to think about!
I am overweight and I can't get thin,
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in!
I think my liver is out of whack,
And a terrible pain is in my back.
My hearing is poor ... my sight is dim,
Most everything seems to be out of trim;
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in!
I have arch support for both my feet,
Or I wouldn't be able to go on the street;
Sleeplessness I have, night after night,
And in the morning I'm just a sight.
My memory's failing,
My head's in a spin;
I'm practically living on aspirin,
But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in!
The moral is, as the 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!
