They're not cute and cuddly and innocent and sweet,
Like babies who are often such a treat.
They're wrinkled and rough and ornery and mad,
For life is treating them awfully bad.
They're treated like they are just in the way,
And nobody listens to nothing they say.
Nobody sees that although they're not young,
They still want hugs and kisses and fun.
The things they know may be somewhat out of date
They wait for letters, or a telephone call--They just wait
They wait and they wonder why they're left so alone
As they rock in their chairs in their broken down homes
The world is leaving them to be sweet and kind
So the next time you meet some grumpy old soul
Remember that you too are fast growing old.