Frank O' The Mountain - Glad That I'm Old

Feelin' kinda hard just getting' outta bed
Buck tooth Jesus, I feel half dead
My mind is empty and my brain goes slow
My battery pack is getting' kinda low

I've got no soul to save
And I've got one foot in the grave
But the world's grown so weird and cold
I'm kinda glad that I'm old

Where's my newspaper?
Get offa my lawn!
By the time I count to three
you goddamn kids better be gone

Pull your pants up
Stop bein' a slob
A lotta less twerkin' and a little more workin'
Get a goddamn job!

When I was a kid, we'd walk fifty miles through five feet of snow
Goin' to school with a smile
And we didn't complain
But the world's grown so weird and cold
I'm kinda glad that I'm old

Oh, take me

We're all goin' to hell in a handbag
We're on a runaway train
The goal posts are movin'
The fact checks are provin'
the fool with the foil hat seems sane

Resistance is futile
You've all been bought and sold
Get back in line
And do as you're told

There's nothin' left here that I need to see
You're all turds of misery

Yeah, the world's grown so weird and cold
I'm kinda glad that I'm old
I'm kinda glad that I'm old
I'm kinda glad that I'm old
I'm kinda glad that I'm old

Written by:
Frank McCarthy

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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