Lyrics
As walk down the street
how often do you meet
some poor man whose life has grown old?
His aged form is bent,
in his pocket not a cent,
and for shelter knows not where to go.
See that poor old wreck of toil?
His children him do shun.
To die I'm sure he has prayed.
For himself and dear wife,
after toiling all their lives,
find they're old and only in the way.
So let us cheer them on.
They won't be with us long.
Don't laugh because they're old and gray.
Just remember while you're young
that to you the time will come
when you're old and only in the way.
Now my message, I'm sure,
is for the rich as well as poor.
Take a rich man when he's growing old.
His relations 'round him stand,
and they take him by the hand.
They want him to die.
They want his gold.
All through life he has enjoyed
all the things that wealth can buy,
but gold his life could not save.
After all, he's like the poor
when his journey's nearly o'er.
He finds he's old and only in the way.
So let us cheer them on.
They won't be with us long.
Don't laugh because they're old and gray.
Just remember while you're young
that to you the time will come
when you're old and only in the way.
When you're old and only in the way.
