Текст песни
Roll out of bed, threw some water on my face
25 Sit-ups and I run in place
I put the coffee on, but the pot ain't clean
Yeah, oh, you little devils of alcohol and caffeine
A handful of vitamins, dropped them on the floor
My ex-girlfriends are laughing from the icebox door
I put their photos up there, yeah, we talk all the time
But they ain't talking back now, the pugilist is 59
Cold chicken salad, a glass of iced tea
Phone bills, gas bills, electricity
And the mortgage and the junk mail, one old Father's Day card
Yeah, go sweat it out kid, it's a hundred and eight in the yard
Water the lawn, trim them old trees
Pray that your gut don't fall down to your knees
And Archie Moore whispers in your ear
"Get up kid, you're in your prime"
Nah, nah, the champ's on the ropes, our pugilist is 59
And the rock and roll and the fight for your soul goes on and on
You put on the gloves, you're always ready for love
Pray your passion ain't used up and gone, yeah
The harder we love, the harder we fall
It's cauliflower hearts and old medicine balls
And back street affairs in all the water tank towns
Where there's a mighty thin line between a
Heavyweight champ and a used up old clown
But this is Hollywood kid, fear strikes out
Miracles turn around one-sided bouts
Get off the floor kid, the sweet science of them old romantic lines
Hey, the champ's coming back boys, the pugilist is 59
And the rock and roll and the fight for your soul goes on and on
You put on the gloves, you're always ready for love
Pray your passion ain't used up and gone, yeah
Roll out of bed, water on your face
25 Sit-ups, run in place
You put the coffee on, but the pot ain't clean
I said, oh, you little devils of alcohol and caffeine
Yeah, oh, you little devils of alcohol and caffeine
I said, oh, you little devils of alcohol and caffeine