Oh I must be getting old 'Cause I can't hold a grudge like I used to A sudden, patient virtue Grace impromptu And all this matchbox bitterness Goes up in dancing flame, orange and mandarin Arabesquing ashen glowing ember Dead to the world, read like the stars New to the moments we are Oh and it's painful to be born when you're thirty-four Kicking, screaming, bleeding and believing Shallow breathing Oh, I must be getting old 'cause I can't hold a grudge Like I used to