The Oldest Things

The oldest things I’m wearing are the wrinkles upon my face.

I’ve washed, I’ve dried and I’ve ironed them, they seem to hold their place.

Mainly I’ve always had them and I guess I always will.

I’m guessing if I was a duck, I’d have them on my bill.

You know things could be better, things could also be much worse.

I’d rather walk around with wrinkles, than have a permanent-press smile, riding in a hearse.