I've lost my powers - I'm quite a slob
And in my mirror my bum's a blob
One-Ninety-Five is now my measure - If it's measured 'round my waist
Yeah, it's the prize of age
A bowl of bran is now my pleasure - If it cleanse me in a haste
Aaaaarrrgh!

I can't fry me meals in butter
I can't give in to that urge
Girls used to call me lover
Not call the state police
I may end up with a prostate
Twice the size a happy meal
Or a by-pass-graft with a second stent - And a million pills to take
A sudden urge for cheese might seal my deal

Sick, forty and fat
I can't hide and I can't fake
Sick, forty and fat
Head counting brings me ache
A bit further down - No blood goes to the bat
Sick, forty and fat
I'm staying in with my cat

I can see my neighbours screaming
When my hearing aid is off
Get some tail is only dreaming
And in public I will cough
When I break the code of silence
You will smell it far away
And I'll have to use more Rogaine
The bald spot seems to stay

I've bought some comfy slippers - Tying sneakers is killing my back

Sick, forty and slow
I can feel it's time to pray
I'm loosing my flow
And I'm blunter by the day
If it's Parkinson or Creutzfeldt - Jakobs matter neither way
Sick, forty and numb
I'm progressively dumb

(Guitar Solo)

O-Fourty-Five is now my IQ - Not just when I'm watching sports

(Another Solo - Probably forgot one has already been done)

Aaaaarrrgh!

Got a double backuped note-to-self with numbers to my port
Sick, tired and slow
I can't handle all my spam
Pre-senile and low
My 'puter skill's a RAM
I ain't gonna live forever - And this laxative's a drain
Ad mortem, time's up
I am no longer "whazzup!"

Sick, forty and fat
No longer all that
Old, bald and on prunes
That's coming up soon