Advice to a Young Man

If I were a young man somewhere ‘round about your age
And the world had a more kindly view
I’d remove all my doors
And polish my floors
To get a better look of her not of you.

But, alas, time has withered me down
So now I must squint squirm and frown
To find that perfect new angle
Not get my brain in a tangle
Nor look like a goofy old clown.

I would gaze upon her nice smile
That she wears exceedingly well
I'm certain it would brighten my day
Leave me little more to say
Help to forestall that final old bell.

But time has taken my youth
It has left me alone in a booth
Turned my mind into rust
And my thoughts into dust
Leaving me to ask—should I lie or tell you the truth?

Go dance till the break of dawn
You’ll have little time to squander away
I’ll cut you some slack
While you’re flat on your back
From where the view gets better each day.

But when life grabs you for one final thrill
And makes you lose half of your pills
That you’re never alone
If she’s home by the phone
And she’s got you to pay all of her bills.