I’m aging great; young Swedes, I’ve found, go ape for-a lech like me
I once was soft, but lost the pounds, was wide, but now I’m lean

The ‘grays’ I thought I’d have to shear alas did not recede
Not plenteous are the grays I’d feared, and I am so relieved!

Some men are vain, and spoiled and scared of what they might become;
Our grays and guts we guys bemoan -- our parts define the sum.

I still can make the wood to please the babes my looks secure;
When it goes soft, my Porsche will be my only needed cure

Yes, once my rod has lost its kick, and babes no more can please;
I’ll still have skill to drive my ‘stick’, for I’ll still have the keys

That’s all for now, I have to go – the Por-sche needs a shine;
So when my good looks fin’lly go, the babes can still be mine.