Told by Jim Moy, M1CPC (SK)
Written by Constance O’Neon (1953)


There’s nothing the matter with me,

I’m as healthy as can be,

I have arthritis in both my knees,

And when I talk – I talk with a wheeze.

My pulse is weak and my blood is thin,

But – I’m awfully well for the shape I’m in!


Arch supports I have for my feet

Or I wouldn’t be able to be out on the street.

Sleep is denied me night after night

But every morning I find I’m alright.

My memory’s failing, my head’s in a spin

But – I’m awfully well for the shape I’m in!


The moral is this – as my tale I unfold

That for you and me who are getting old,

It’s better to say ‘I’m fine’ with a grin

Of all the grand places my ‘got up’ has bin

Old age is golden I’ve heard it said!


But sometimes I wonder as I get into bed

With my ears in a drawer, my teeth in a cup,

My specs on a table until I get up,

‘Ere sleep overtakes me I say to myself

Is there anything else I could lay on the shelf?


When I was young my slippers were red

I could kick my heels right over my head;

When I was older my slippers were blue

But I could dance the whole night through!


Now I am old my slippers are black,

I walk to the shop and puff my way back.

I get up each morning and dust off my wits

And pick up the paper to read the ‘obits’

If my name is still missing, I know I’m not dead!


Given to 2E0EXV by M1CPC Jim Moy (SK).