SEVENTY-ONE

It's right hard to run
When you're seventy-one.
Yet harder is it
To finally admit
That those days are done.

It's right hard to run
When you're seventy-one.
At getting old I'd like to balk
Because even when I walk
It's not so lightly done.

It's right hard to run
When you're seventy-one.
I guess my jig is up.
With friends I can't keep up,
And that's no fun.

It's right hard to run
When you're seventy-one.
It's hard when you're old
And the weather's cold
Or on days hot with sun.

It's right hard to run
When you're seventy-one.
It's right hard to tweak
Legs stiff and weak
Even at the starting gun.

It's hard to run
When you're seventy-one,
When slow are your ways
And gone are the days
Of trophies won.