my pilot light is out,
what used to be my sex appeal
is now my water spout.
Time was when, of it’s own accord
from my trousers it would spring
but now I have a full time job
to find the blasted thing.
It used to be embarrassing
the way it would behave,
for every single morning
it would stand and watch me shave.
As my old age approaches
it, sure gives me the blues,
to see it hang it’s withered head
and watch me tie my shoes.
