The Older I git . . . . . . .

Give me the keys to your Ferrari old man, also ran,
you picked a fine time to leave me Lucille, only you can;
if I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me,
tell me what you did, the smile on your face said you'd see.

Yeah, Alan Jackson has a lot to answer for, in the country,
I'm older now and don't live in the 'sticks,' distantly;
I'm colder now, maybe love fades away like morning dew,
you're not bothered, happened to you, what would you do? 

The builders are in, someone died, kids have taken over,
clear the front garden, things need doin,' he didn't bother,
new generation, put it on the market, just get the money,
then us kids can all be in the land of bread and honey.

Ironic isn't it - I coud die and no one would ever know,
you're lucky if you've got people around you when you 'go,'