Old Maid

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 This old way You can count your chickens When you get laid Old maid Now I know you two were the best of friends And she was the only one you 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 This old way You can count your chickens When you get laid You know it's not a sin And I known since way back when Never in the month of May June, August or September Well how about today? Old maid Old maid Old maid Old maid You can count your chickens When you get laid