I just don't get around like I used to.
You don't mind if I expound, do you?
I was never Jim Thorpe and I was never Casanova,
But my career as a physical being's long over.
Besides, modern life's lived in the mind,
Which seemed for some years to have fit me just fine,
But it's not just man's legs that leave limping and lame.
My mind is by bad luck, or maybe time, tamed,
and I'd like it better if you didn't call me "the late,"
But against odds, it looks like I'm spoiled, past date.
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