[personal profile] seymoure

You say you got troubles, Ain’t that what you said,

Your trouble will double, When you’re closer to dead,

You got troubles with love, troubles with heart,

Your troubles are nothing, says this here old fart,

(chorus)

My joints are a screamin’,My stomach is afire,

My digestive system, Was designed by a liar,

Things that I valued back then, Have just stopped working,

Don’t know just where, Don’t know just when,

But I’ll tell you, don’t carp, Cause getting’ old, my brother

Ain’t no walk in the park.

Stop your complainin’, Don’t even start

You got nothing, On this old fart!

(end chorus)

Your girl has left you, that just isn’t fair,

But what if nothing was working, even though she was there,

You don’t make enough money, you run out of bread,

But for my Social Security, you wouldn’t get out of bed,

(chorus)

You got so much drama, so much sadness and woe,

But at least in the bathroom, when you go you can go,

So, stop your complaining, no more blues you should bring,

For when it starts raining, you can dance and you can sing

(chorus)

© C. Wayne Owens


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seymoure

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