He's the oldest guy I've seen
But he dances like a King who's found his Queen
Map of skies adowns his face, but he never, never fell from grace
That man steps on the streets once more

Screaming out:No longer my life's whore
See the smile upon his face, and you'll forget all your hardest days
Sure, his beard is bloody gray, but that's the price that he has got to pay
Not throwing a dance to anyone, he's just jogging to get his last show done

His age is just a number, it's in black on white
No pity for him, his eyes are shining bright
Let him dance right here every night and day
Down in a corner, scratching flies away

Drinking is what you should do, better listen to irish folk punk, too
I miss the sound of my old dancing shoes, oh, God, I need more of that booze
Yes, my life is full of work, I never rest, instead, I'm getting dressed
Not throwing a dance to anyone, he's just jogging to get his last show done

His age is just a number, it's in black on white
No pity for him, his eyes are shining bright
Let him dance right here every night and day
Down in a corner, scratching flies away

His age is just a number, it's in black on white
No pity for him, his eyes are shining bright
Let him dance right here every night and day
Down in a corner, scratching flies away

His age is just a number, it's in black on white
No pity for him, his eyes are shining bright
Let him dance right here every night and day
Down in a corner, scratching flies away