| I rounded first never thought of the worst
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| As I studied the shortstop’s position
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| Then crack went my leg like the shell of an egg
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| Someone call a decent physician
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| I’m no Pete Rose, I can’t pretend
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| While my mind is quite flexible
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| these brittle bones don’t bend
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| I’m growing older but not up
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| My metabolic rate is pleasantly stuck
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| So let the winds of change blow over my head
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| I’d rather die while I’m living then live while I’m dead
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| Sometimes I see me as an old manatee
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| Heading south as the waters grow colder
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| He tries to steer clear of the hum drum so near
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| It cuts prop scars deep in his shoulders
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| That’s how it flows right to the end
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| His body’s still flexible but that
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| Barnacle brain don’t bend
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| So now don’t get me wrong
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| This is not a sad song
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| Just events that I have happened to witness
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| And time takes it’s toll as we head for the poll
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| And no one dies from physical fitness
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| That’s how it goes, right to the end
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| As the days grow more complicated the night life still wins
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| Let the winds of change blow over my head
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| I’d rather die while I’m living then live while I’m dead |