WHEN I GET OLD...
When
I am old, “and losing my hair, many years from now...”
Wait
a minute, that’s an old Beatles song, I’ll have to use my own words somehow.
When
I am old, and “I’m turning gray, I’ll still be gray my way…”
Wait
a minute that’s an old Rush song, can’t I find novel words to say?
When
I am old, and I’m feeling faint, needing to eat some food.
I’ll
just scavenge from hotel room service carts, that isn’t so crude!
People
never eat all they order anyhow, and push the rest into the hall.
I’ll
just beat the maids to the punch, and feed my face in the bathroom stall.
When
I am old, and getting uptight, feeling the need to roam.
I’ll
travel the world in a hot air balloon, powered by the sun and sea foam.
Oh
the places I’ll go and the people I’ll see, sailing high above.
London,
Paris, Wichita, and Cleveland are just a few of the cities I love!
I’ll
spend my money like a drunken sailor, with narry’ a care or a doubt.
At
least until the end of the month, when my pension check starts running out.
Then
I’ll just call my young nephew Ernie, whose got money to burn.
Yeah, I’ll give
him a shout.
When
I am old, you’ll see me coming for sure.
I’ll be wearing fluorescent green and orange, that will make your eyes
blur.
I
won’t care about fashion no more, and what’s in or what’s out won’t concern me.
I’ll
deliberately embarrass my kids and their offspring too; in response to their
lack of sympathy.
Seriously
though, I’ll think about death and the great beyond toward the end.
But
I won’t fear nor stress, I’ll just keep on rolling along, with my Lord Jesus.
Cause,
this ol’ tent is bound for the grave and destruction, but my soul is destined
for glory!
Why
hold on to the things that are passing? Hey man, this life ain’t the end of the
story!
My
great concern, and I must admit, is how I’ve lived and left my mark.
Have
I been a good role model to those I love or will I leave a legacy that
is empty and dark?
I
want to be a man that it can be said of…
He
was full of faith, goodness, mercy, and love.
But
why should I wait till I am old,
to experience the joys of letting this life
unfold?
I
should live all that is in my heart now,
for we are not guaranteed even another
hour.
We
are but sand blown in the wind,
the pedals of a fading flower.
