All
those things, all of those life or death things
That
were going to make or break our lives
More
than fifty years of up and down swings
No
more important than a case of hives
Life
will not be a million dollars
Or
the great orgasmic love of our life
We’re
cooks and cleaners and garbage haulers
Who
pray that the bills don’t cause us more strife
But
why not enjoy the end of the race
And
leave the madness to younger hotties
Accept
the sags and wrinkles of our face
And
don’t spend money on botox bodies
If
we don’t enjoy what we still can do
We
will be failures when the ride is through
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