If I should become lacklustre, dull witted and fit only for the scrapheap,
please keep a place in your memory for me, I wasn't always
that way.

There was lots more, lots,
I rode the waves to the shoreline,
but time took its revenge on me,
once
a friend, though it never defended me
and I pretended for years it had forgotten me.

But
I'm not off my rocker yet and
I've still got all of my marbles,
the light's burning bright,
it's
game on
tonight,

I'm just telling you how it might be.