The Road to Old Man’s Town
The fields of youth are filled with flowers,The wine of youth is strong:What need have we to count the hours?The summer days are long.
But soon we find to our dismayThat we are drifting downThe barren slopes that fall awayTowards the foothills grim and greyThat lead to Old Man’s Town.
And marching with us on the trackFull many friends we find:We see them looking sadly backFor those that dropped behind.
But God forbid a fate so dread—ALONE to travel downThe dreary road we all must tread,With faltering steps and whitening head,The road to Old Man’s Town!