I was 60 last Saturday, and as a treat my wife took me to Liverpool as a surprise to visit all the Beatles places I'd like to have seen 40 years ago. This came to me as I was pondering those 3 days, and the fact that I can't now do all the things I would have liked to have done.
Is sixty past it? Phill Williams.
I have been every age, from naught to sixty.
I've felt my powers grow, and now I feel them fade.
I wasted my youth on many childish things.
On many stupid boyish things.
On things that make me close my eyes and shake my head.
I was never the wisest of my brood.
Never the smartest in my school.
Never the best at the things I was good.
Never that good at the things I was good.
So I sit here aching and wondering why...
I let all those opportunities pass me by?
“I'll get the next bus.
“Have my last Rollo.
“Take my seat I'll stand.
“Let me hold the door...
Please and thank-you were always my way.
Polite and courteous, stand back and smile, tote that barge, lift that bale.
I can only insult, if it sounds like a joke.
Why cant I be a pig like everyone I know?
So my best years are past.
I walk now, and creak.
I wobble when I stand.
And I sleep between pee's.
All the music I loved has been stacked wall to floor.
Someone came 'round and locked tight the door.
All the music is gone, is that boom-boom a tune?
Sixty's not past it, it's just old to you.
I'll be around a long time yet!