This sweater doesn’t quite smell
Much the way it used to
My teeth aren’t nearly as white
My blue eyes half as bright
My taste for liquor ain’t the same
I say that’s a good thing
Beneath this crooked little grin
The ice is getting thin
But our times are never really thick
Simple arithmetic
It’s not a mental trick I plan to learn
Too good at giving up,
Why bother covering a candle due to snuff?
Simple arithmetic
It’s not a mental trick I plan to learn
I’ve learned to live without.
I’m barely flickering, just put me out.