The Shape I'm In

I'm fine, I'm fine.

There's nothing whatever the matter with me.

I'm just as healthy as I can be.

I have arthritis in both of my knees,

And when I talk, I talk with a wheeze.

My pulse is weak, and my blood thin,

But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

My teeth eventually will have to come out,

And I can't hear a word unless you shout.

I'm overweight and I can't get thin,

But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

Arch supports I have for both my feet.

Or I wouldn't be able to walk down the street.

Sleep is denied me every night,

And every morning I'm really a sight.

My memory is bad and my head's a-spin,

And I practically live on aspirin,

But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

The moral is, as this tale unfolds,

That for you and me who are growing old,

It's better to say "I'm fine" with a grin

Than to let people know that shape we're in.

- Unknown -