There is nothing whatever the matter with me!

I'm just as healthy as I can be.

I have arthritis in both my knees,

And when I talk , I speak with a wheeze;

My pulse is weak, and my blood is thin,

But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

My teeth eventually have to come out,

And my diet I hate to think about!

I'm overweight and I can't get thin,

But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

I think my liver is out of whack;

And a terrible pain is in my back.

My hearing is poor, my sight is dim,

But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

I have arch supports for both my feet,

Or I wouldn't be able to walk down the street.

Sleeplessness comes night after night,

And in the morning I'm just a sight.

My memory's failing, my head's in a spin,

I'm practically living on aspirin;

But I'm awfully well for the shape I'm in.

The moral is, as the tale unfolds,

That for you and me who are growing old,

It's better to say "I'm Fine" with a grin

Than to tell everyone of the shape we're in.