Old Maid

Girl, I think we're getting old
My heart's grown colder
And your hair's turning gray
Come on, what do you say?
Let's put the horse behind the cart
And make some hay
Old maid
We're not getting any younger
This old way
You can count your chickens
When you get laid
Old maid
Now I know you two were the best of friends
And she was the only one you ever let in
But she's dead and that's a fact
And what I'm getting at?
I think we can do better than that
Old maid
We're not getting any younger
This old way
You can count your chickens
When you get laid
You know it's not a sin
And I known since way back when
Never in the month of May
June, August or September
Well how about today?
Old maid
Old maid
Old maid
Old maid
You can count your chickens
When you get laid