I am just a prisoner in this life,
It's related to my age,
I am restrained by my being,
And it is my back that is my cage.
It cannot support what it once did,
And whatever the weather or season,
I can be doing nothing at all,
And it pops out for no reason.
Just two days ago I was on the beach,
And out the cranky thing popped,
It seemed things were now to be hampered,
Most festivities had to be stopped.
I couldn't even get comfortable,
Sit or lie or stand,
Left untreated things would deteriorate,
The really get out of hand.
So, home we raced for the remedy,
Charlie drove to fast,
To imbue me with bourbon and cold coke,
Served in a frosty tall glass.
I've had back problems for about 10 years now. I remember the sympathy I got from one of the physiotherapists I went to, "You're a middle aged fat bastard now. Get used to it." I responded by drinking more, eating more and exercising less. That'll show her. (I HATE the use of shock tactics.)
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