Arch supports I have for my feet, Or I wouldn't be able to be on the street. Sleep is denied me night after night, But every morning I find that I'm alright, My memory's failing my heads in a spin, But I'm awfully well for the shape that I'm in.
The moral of this, as this tale I unfold, that for you and me who are growing so old; It's better to say "I'm fine," with a grin than to let folks know the true shape that we're in.So, remember, I do love you, and wish that you were here: But now it's nearly mail time-- so I must say "Good bye dear.' There I stood beside the mailbox, with face so very red, instead of mailing you my letter, I opened it instead!