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Cure, The - I Want To Be Old

I want to be old

And creek by the fire

I want to smell of rotting wood

It's all I desire

I want my joints to seize up

I want my legs to ache

I want my eyesight to fail

I want my skin to flake

To be old

I want to be old

I want false teeth

And not be able to chew

I want to be senile

A centigenarian fool

I want lots of wrinkles

Want my hearing to go

I want to be ignored

And I want to be slow

To be old

I want to be old
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