Testo: This Bike Is A Pipe Bomb. Front Seat Solidarity. Hot Diggety.

These old arms of mine, popping and cracking all the time
They can't pick up what they should pick up, makes me depressed sometimes
These dang knees that I've got on, somebody must have put 'em on wrong
I can't really depend on 'em, I can't walk half a mile on 'em
I got one ear that I can't hear from, got a wrist that needs a little work done
When I talk my jaw gets locked up, I wake up and some mornings it's frozen

And I'm feeling old and crookedy
And I ain't even turned 30 yet
Well my daddy died when he was 47
I'm right behind
He had his problems and I got mine

My danged ol' back, she's outta whack
I got headaches that could knock out a horse, got mental problems of course (of course)
People used to say I was so thin, the bones are gonna pop right outta my skin
One night I was running from the cops, I hopped a fence and my ankle went pop
Pop pop, pop pop pop pop

And I'm feeling old and crookedy
And I ain't even turned 30 yet
Well my daddy died when he was 47
I'm right behind
He had his problems and I got mine