Alone I’ve walked this island for many decades now
and in that time a thing or two there is that I know how
to accomplish or to generate, but one I cannot tame.
Perhaps I could have once, but love is a younger man’s game.

Of course I thought of such things back when I was fifty one
and scheming of the youthful dreams of joy and freedom’s fun.
Of course I am much older and my boyhood is no more
now that I’ve achieved the peak of reaching fifty four.

This age that I have reached has left me walking like a gimp
as anyone who sees me recognizes this old limp,
and now I cannot race romance, as one completely lame
so I must admit to all that love is a younger man’s game.

Yes, love is for the younger, and I hunger for it not.
My capacity for love has flown since I have gone to pot.
My interest in romance is near diddley, almost squat.
In fact, I think you’ll find that my love can’t be caught.

My days of affairs are over, if I may be so bold,
due to the simple fact that you’ll find that I’m too old.
It’s a statement that is far too true, that you cannot reframe
and however you try, you cannot deny that love is a younger man’s game.