The Shit Song

When I run into friends of mine I haven't seen in years, They give me the once over then their eyes well up with tears. Then they pronounce me 'looking great', I haven't changed a bit, I flash 'em back a feeble smile: I know I look like sh*t. 'Cos I saw myself this morning, phew, and I know of what I speak. I'm a human being, but I look like I reek. And a weaker bathroom lightbulb just might take care of it, 'Cos the mirror shatters your illusions when you look like sh*t. Sh*t comes in different colors and consistencies, I guess that I'm just aging like the finest wines and cheeses. The guy that's me, who's in my dreams, is twenty-five or six, I'm old enough to be his dad, how's that for parlour tricks? Life's a job you're fired from, unless of course you quit, Gee, I wonder if that old blind guy knows that he looks like sh*t? Let's ask him! 'scuse me? No, over here! Although I know it's natural, I still can't understand. Once I looked like a million bucks, now, more like two grand. We start out with a lot of time, but what happens to it? Times flies when you f**k around and then you look like sh*t! Oh, ain't it the truth, brothers and sisters? Sh*t comes in different colors and consistencies, 'Sh*t's a gift we make', Freud said, here, take mine won't you please?' Growing old ain't easy, it's a process so they say. We proceed to our grand finale, every single day. But dying doesn't worry me, I'm not bothered a bit, I just don't like the thought of lying there looking like sh*t!