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YOU ONLY LIVE ALWAYS

LYRICS

53

(Noel McKay)

When you’re 38

You wish you were a hot young thing but it’s too late.

You want to go back and be 20 again, even though you look better than you did back then, and you’re cooler than a snow cone rolling on a roller skate,

When you’re 38.

When you’re 53

You know you’re a whole lot smarter than you used to be.

You’re probably not good looking anymore but you look better than you will at 54,

So you might as well just let yourself be free

And be 53.

When you’re 69

They make a lot of dirty jokes at your expense, but that’s fine.

You probably don’t get it very much anymore but you get it more than you did at 54.

There are a lot of other lonely people who are drunk on wine

When you’re 69.

When you’re 101

You’ve been around so long all there is to do is have fun.

Be a dirty old woman, be a nasty old coot.

Everybody laughs at you and says it’s cute but you might still have a few years to spin around the sun

When you’re 101.

When you’re 202

You should have been dead for at least a hundred years now. Isn’t that true?

You’re never going to get tired of being alive and you’re always going to look like you’re 25. Old age is never going to be the death of you

Because you’re 202.

BLUE BLUE BLUE

LYRICS

THE 50 LONELIEST PLACES IN THE NATION 

(Noel McKay)

The fifty loneliest places in the nation are some places that I’ve been to.

They only earned that status because I got my saddest when I went to them and spent some time without you.

Exotic places, well, I’ve known some. These are some that I made lonesome when you broke my heart and I went on vacation.

They’re the fifty loneliest places in the nation.

 

St Louis makes me bluest. St Paul just makes me bawl. Niagara Falls might be the worst of all. Schenectady, oh woe is me. San Clemente, tears are plenty. In San Antone my heart sinks like a stone.

In New Orleans the days are mean. In Mandeville I miss you still. In Baton Rouge my mind’s filled with regret. Los Alamos, Los Angeles, Las Vegas and the Florida Keys. I’ll never dance again in Lafayette.

 

CHORUS

 

Grand Forks, Gulf Port, Galveston, Green Bay, Milwaukee, Madison, Muskogee. When I weep my sobs are noisy.

Portland, Oregon, Portland Maine. Ponchatoula near Ponchartrain and I can’t seem to shake the blues in Boise.

Kansas City, Kankakee, Walla Walla, Waikiki. Louisville, Kentucky at the races.

Juneau, Joplin, Jamestown too. Chicago, Cheyenne, Kalamazoo. I guess I’ll have to go some other places.

 

Atlanta, Santa Ana, Cincinnati, Texarkana, Tacoma, Houma, Yuma, Union City. Albuquerque, Albany, Asheville, Nashville, Tennessee. I feel so forlorn that it’s a pity.

New York City, Newport Beach, I’ve been there and cried in each, still I’m glad I beheld each lovely sight. And, I suppose, it would be rude if I neglected to include this city that I’m standing in tonight.

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