Ever since I got a case of potter's rot,
I can't seem to make it up the stair;
So you'll find me sleepin' in the corner.
By the kitchen window.
It's open, I need the fresh air.

The only speed I know now is adagio.
Ain't got juice enough to build up steam;
So I had to own it long ago,
I'd be movin' kinda slow,
And the truth is, I'm just glad to be here.

​

You know, once I was a rocket--the called me "Flash"!
Coulda taken Owens and owned the dash;
But now I'm out of fuel,
I'm like a tired old pack mule--
MOVIN' SLOW.

​

Now I like to contemplate the butterfly,
Watching him flutterin' and dancin' by;
All the while, I watch the flowers grow;
Sure, I'm movin' kinda slow,
But the truth is, I'm so glad to be alive.