(Judy Small / Alison Lyssa)
And it's off, off out of my sight
Your grey hair's all wrinkled, you look such a fright
The bed's wet, you wander, you catch the wrong bus
You're much too much trouble to stay here with us
I'm not as young now as I wanted to be
The rest of the world's getting younger than me
Old mum had the garden and jobs till she died
And fisherman dad he went out with the tide
They've saved my old life just to push me aside
I know I'm not easy to care for nowadays
I get so confused and my memory strays
It seems that the years have rolled on past my door
And I just haven't noticed like I used to before
And at times I'm too tired to try any more
What's the use of not dying till eighty or more
They said I was useless at seventy-four
You'd like your own kitchen, a cuppa, a pie
You'd like your own bed when you wanted to die
And meanwhile well one of the kids might drop by