You Are Old, Father William They Might Be Giants

You are old, Father William, the young man said
And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head
Do you think, at your age, it is right?

In my youth," Father William replied to his son
I feared it might injure the brain;
But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none
Why, I do it again and again

I am old, I am old, I will tell you again I am old

You are old, said the youth, As I mentioned before
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door
Pray, what is the reason of that?

In my youth, said the sage, as he shook his grey locks
I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment, one shilling the box
Allow me to sell you a couple?

I am old, I am old, It's a statement in fact, I am old

You are old, said the youth, And your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak
Pray, how did you manage to do it?