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And even if love comes through the door, | the kind that goes on forevermore, | forevermore is shorter than before | oh, I'm glad I'm not young anymore! | The tiny remark that tortures you | the fear that your friends won't like her too | I'm glad I'm not young anymore. | The longing to end a stale affair | until you find out she doesn't care | I'm glad I'm not young anymore. | No more frustration | no star-crossed lover am I | no aggravation | just one reluctant reply | «Lady, goodbye». | The fountain of youth is dull as paint | Methuselah is my patron saint | I've never been so comfortable before. | Oh, I'm glad I'm not young anymore! (it) |
