1597 - As we grow old

It's my birthday today, another year
How old am I? Ah well, I am no teen
And so I'd rather keep numbers unclear
What do they mean anyway? Well, they mean
You're getting closer to death, but that's being
Paranoid, cos infants die too, so sad
So if you're getting long in the tooth, lean
On your walking stick with pride, and be glad
That fate was kind. You survived being a lad
With all its foolishness, and you're still here
Despite each crossed road and each car unseen
That grazed you like a Somme bullet. It's mad
To be depressed, despite the harsh mirror
Each moment of life makes us king and queen