Too Old to Rock 'N' Roll

The old rocker wore his hair too long

Wore his trouser cuffs too tight

Unfashionable to the end

Drank his ale too light

Death's head belt buckle, yesterday's dreams

The transport-caf, prophet of doom

Ringing no change in his double-sewn seams

In his post-war-babe gloom

Now he's too old, oh-oh, to rock 'n' roll, oh-oh

But he's too young to die

Yes, he's too old, oh-oh, to rock 'n' roll, oh-oh

But he's too young to die

So the old rocker gets out his bike

To make a ton before he takes his leave

Up on the A1 by Scotch Corner

Just like it used to be

And as he flies, tears in his eyes

His wind-whipped words echo the final take

And he hits the trunk road doing around 120

With no room left to brake

And he was too old, oh-oh, to rock 'n' roll, oh-oh

And he was too young to die

No, he was too old, oh-oh, to rock 'n' roll, oh-oh

And he was too young to die

No, you're never too old, oh-oh, to rock 'n' roll, oh-oh

If you're too young to die

And no, you're never too old, oh-oh, to rock 'n' roll, oh-oh

But he was too young to die