how do i know my youth is all spent my get up and go has got up and went in spite of it all i m able to grin when i think of the places my get up has been old age is golden i think i ve heard said but sometimes i wonder as i crawl into bed my ears in a drawer my teeth in a cup my eyes on the table until i wake up as sleep dims my vision i say to myself is there anything else i should lay on the shelf but nations are warring and business is vexed so i ll stick around to see what happens next when i was younger my slippers were red i could kick up my heels right over my head when i was older my slippers were blue but still i could dance the whole night thru now i am old my slippers are black i huff to the store and i puff my way back but never you laugh i don t mind at all i d rather be huffing than not puff at all i get up each morning and dust off my wits open the paper and read the obits if i m not there i know i m not dead so i eat a good breakfast and go back to bed
['american folk revival', 'appalachian folk', 'banjo', 'folk', 'folk rock', 'old-time', 'traditional folk']