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!