i see me turn feeble,
but no so cripple,
when my back starts to bend,
its an age trend,
i might start to famble,
then overtime fumble
i see me blurred,
i may turn blared,
i will start blubbering with the foregone,
u will see me as a clone,
for i have grown a third eye
i am scared,
for ur ears might bear wall,
when u outgrow u´ll be tall,
am scared of this age trend,
i see me becoming a burden
i might loose my cool,
u\'ll make me dress like a baby,
cause am to old to speak
i am scared ,
of growing old,
turning useless,
eaten by dementia,
am scared to be screwed,
that i might forget my name,
that fame turns lame,
am scared being old and cold