The old rocker wore his hair too long Wore his trouser cuffs too tight Unfashionable to the end Drank his ale too light Death's head belts buckle Yesterday's dreams The transport caf' prophet of doom Ringing no change in his double-sewn seams In his post-war-babe gloom Now he's too old to rock 'n' roll But he's too young to die Yes, he's too old to rock 'n' roll But he's too young to die He once owned a Harley Davidson And a Triumph Bonneville Counted his friends in burned-out spark plugs And prays that he always will But he's the last of the blue blood greasers boys And all of his mates are doing time Married with three kids up by the ring road Sold their souls straight down the line And some of them own little sports cars And meet at the tennis club do's For drinks on a Sunday, work on Monday They've thrown away their blue suede shoes Now they're too old to rock 'n' roll And they're too young to die Yes, they're too old to rock 'n' roll And they're too young to die So the old rocker gets out his bike To make a ton before he takes his leave Up on the A1 by Scotch Corner Just like it used to be And as he flies, tears in his eyes His wind-whipped words echo the final take And he hits the trunk road doing around a 120 With no room left to brake And he was too old to rock 'n' roll But he was too young to die He was too old to rock 'n' roll And he was too young to die No, you're never too old to rock 'n' roll If you're too young to die No, you're never too old to rock 'n' roll But he was too young to die

If life is like a candle bright death must be the wind You can close your window tight and it still comes flowing in So I will climb the highest hill and watch the rising sun And I pray that I don't feel the chill till I'm too old to die young Let me watch my children grow to see what they become Oh, Lord, don't let that cold wind blow till I'm too old to die young Now I have had some dear sweet friends I thought would never die Now the only thing that's left of them is the teardrops in my eyes If I could have one wish today and know it would be done Well I would say everyone could stay till they're too old to die young Let me watch my children grow to see what they become Oh, Lord, don't let that cold wind blow till I'm too old to die young Let me watch my children grow to see what they become Oh, Lord, don't let that cold wind blow till I'm too old to die young

Round and round, round we go Where it stops? Nobody knows it Side to side baby, back and forth God above and the devil below him You got your reasons and I got my wants Still got that feeling, but I'm too old to die young now Too old to die young now Above or below the ground Yes, too old to die young now Still the good lord might lay me down Round and round, round we go Where it stops? Nobody knows it Side to side baby, down in the hole God above and the devil below him You got your reasons and I got my wants Still got that feeling, but I'm too old to die young now Too old to die young now Above or below the ground Yes, too old to die young now Still the good lord might lay me down To lay me down To die young now Too old to die young now Above or below the ground Still the good lord might lay me down

We dig dig dig dig dig dig dig in our mine the Whole day through To dig dig dig dig dig dig dig is what we really like to do It ain't no trick to get rich quick If you dig dig dig with a shovel or a pick In a mine! In a mine! In a mine! In a mine! Where a million diamonds shine! We dig dig dig dig dig dig dig from early morn till night We dig dig dig dig dig dig dig up everything in sight We dig up diamonds by the score A thousand rubies, sometimes more But we don't know what we dig 'em for We dig dig dig a-dig dig Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho Heigh-ho Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho It's home from work we go Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho It's home from work we go Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho Heigh-ho hum Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho It's home from work we go Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho It's home from work we go Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho It's home from work we go

With a spoon, with a bowl, With the music in your soul, You can cheer things up with a Zup zup zup of the music in your soup With a gulp, with a grin, Get a wiggle on your chin You can make things hum with a Zum zum zum of the music in your soup When that spoon gotta keep on dippin' Scoop that soup gotta keep on sippin' And your bowl is dry and your face is licking Let'r rip! let'r roar! Through a first and a second and a third times more

Step up to the tub It ain't no disgrace Just pull up your sleeves And get up in place Then scoop up the water And rub it on your face An' go blud-dle-ud-dle-ud-dle Ud-dle-um-dum Pick up the soap Now don't try to to bluff Work up a lather An' when ya got enough Get your hands full of water Ya snort an ya snuff An' go blud-dle-ud-dle-ud-dle Ud-dle-um-dum Ya douse an souse Ya rub and scrub Ya sputter and splash all over the tub You may be cold and wet when your done But ya gotta admit it's goot clean fun So splash all ya like It ain't any trick As soon as your through You'll feel mighty slick Bunch of old nanny goats Ya make me sick, goin' An' go blud-dle-ud-dle-ud-dle Ud-dle-um-dum