The golden years who named it that
It must of been a quack
I know one thing for sure
They didn't have my back



And that triple bypass I had
It sure didn't make me laugh
The pain from it was so intense
It left me a little daft.



The weather man who needs him
My arthritis knows, when it will rain
I find I can't get around
Unless I use my cane.



Whenever I'm in a group
I can't hear a word that's said
Background noise distorts everything
I might as well go to bed



Now eating is no great fun
Everything I like, I can't have
You know if it tastes real good
For me it will be bad.



The aches and pains cost me so much
All my money goes to my physician
Golden years, I think they're for him
For me, money I'm always fishing.