Girl, I think we're getting old
My heart's grown colder
And your hair's turning gray

Come on, what do you say
Let's put the horse behind the cart
And make some hay

Old maid
We're not getting any younger
So wait
You can count your chickens
When you get laid
Old maid

Now I know you two were the best of friends
And you're about the only one she ever let in
But she's dead and that's a fact
And what I'm getting at?
I think we can do better than that

Old maid
We're not getting any younger
So wait
You can count your chickens
When you get laid