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They Might Be Giants
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You Are Old, Father William
You are old, Father William, the young man said,
And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head
Do you think, at your age, it is right?
In my youth,' Father William replied to his son,
I feared it might injure the brain;
But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again.
I am old, I am old, I will tell you again I am old
You are old, said the youth, As I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door
Pray, what is the reason of that?
In my youth, said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment, one shilling the box
Allow me to sell you a couple?
I am old, I am old, It's a statement in fact, I am old
You are old, said the youth, And your jaws are too weak
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For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak
Pray, how did you manage to do it?
In my youth, said his father, I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life.
I am old, I am old, there's not much more to say I am old
You are old, said the youth, one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose
What made you so awfully clever?
I have answered three questions, and that is enough,
Said his father; 'don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs!
Down stairs, Down stairs,
Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs!
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