Tom Jones I'm Growing Old
I'm growing dimmer in the eyes
I'm growing fainter in my talk
I'm growing deeper in my sighs
I'm growing slower in my walk
I'm growing careless of my dress
I'm growing thrifty with my gold
I'm growing wise
I'm growing, yes I'm growing old
I'm growing drowsy in my chair
And I no longer ponder life
And though I save a lock of hair
I seldom dream about my wife
I'm growing fonder of the fire
I'm growing mindful of the cold
I'm growing wise
I'm growing, yes I'm growing old
