He's the oldest guy i've seen, but he dances like a king without a queen
That man steps on the streets once more, screaming out no longer he's lives whore
See the smile upon his face and you'll forget all your hardest days.
Map of skies adowns his face but he never, never fell from grace
Sure his beard is bloody gray but thats the price that he has got to pay
Not throwing a dance to anyone he's just jogging to get his last show done
His age is just a number its in black on white
No pity on him his eyes are shining bright
Let him dance right here every night and day
Down in a corner scratching(?) flies away
His age, just a number written on black and white
Look at the reaper, he's loosing the fight
His age, just a number written on black and white
Down in the corner fencing through the night
Drinking is what you should do, better listen to irish folk punk too
I miss the sound of my old dancing shoes, oh dear god I need more of that booze
Oh yes my life is full of work, I never rest, instead I'm getting dressed
Not throwing a dance to anyone hes just jogging to get his last show done
His age is just a number its in black on white
No pity on him his eyes are shining bright
Let him dance right here every night and day
Down in a corner scratching (?) flies away
His age, just a number, written on black and white
Look at the reaper, he's loosing the fight
His age, just a number, written on black and white
Down in a corner fencing through the night
His age, just a number, written on black and white
Look at the reaper, he's loosing the fight
His age, just a number, written on black and white
Down in a corner fencing through the night
His age, just a number, written on black and white
Down in a corner fencing through the night
His age, just a number, written on black and white
Look at the reaper, he's loosing the fight
Lyrics Submitted by ntp