Ode of our Elderly.

Too old to work, too young to die; God dang, I'm starting to cry.
My wife? A few years ago she passed away; what the hell can I do today?

My son has grown up and has sons of his own; next week he'll be moving, they bought a new home.
Yes my son will be moving to quite far away, and I'll be so lonely, but well, it's okay.

My life has been good and the Lord has been kind;
I know soon it will end and I really won't mind.

Yes, I'm old and I'm gray, and I'll add if I may;
Do you care? Will you help? Then please come see me some day.
  Unlawful Flight