Poor old grandad!

He’s not the man he used to be.

He’s out of puff when he goes up hills.

He has to stop to take his pills.

He has arthritis in his knee.

He forgets to wear his glasses

When he reads a story to me.

 

Poor old grandad!

He has to sit down in a chair.

When I jump on his shoulders,

To hug him, and bug him,

I’ve noticed some gaps in his hair!

 

I put him through his paces,

As round and round the garden we go.

I always win in our races.

Oh, why is grandad so slow?

 

Poor old grandad!

He taught me how to catch a ball,

But now he can’t seem to catch one at all

And his throwing has gone all to pot,

I thrash him at football!

How weak was that shot?

 

I suppose that we’re all getting older,

But, for me, that’s a good thing you see,

It advances the next generation,

It echoes the cycle of nature,

It's the way that our life has to be.

He’s going down, as I’m coming up.

I’m the King of the Castle, that’s me!

 

Poor old grandad!