Owld Age

[Murchiemannie]

A'm gettan' on in years now
ma youth is nearly spent
ma leigs is startan' till gie way
an' ma back is gettan' bent.

Ma bonnie locks are turnan' grey
'E een in ma heid are weerie
some days ma bon's are gey sore
bit a still try till keep cheery.

'E wurst 'at besets me wi' 'e passage 'o time
is ma memory keeps lettan me doon
some days a dinna ken richt far a am
I jist keep wanneran' roond an' roond.

There's bin disasters in 'e kitchen
hid's gettan beyond a joke
ma man comes hom' for his denner at nicht
ans asks me fits wrong when he boaks.

A forgot till pit teabags in his piecebox
at his work he's hevan' yill cadge
when multitaskan a' am, ye'd better dodge
as a even forgot 'e salt in 'e porradge.

Theres whiles a speak 'till masel,
a canna min' half fit a say
'e bairnies aal think a'm no weice
when a'm roond at 'e swings for ma play.

A'll sit an' look back on 'e old days
when a wis alert an' smert on ma feet,
a'll slow doon an' take hid easy
mabe ma brain cells 'll rejuvenate.