^CThe old ^FRocker w^Core hi^Gs hair too lon^Cg,^Bb ^Amwore his ^Dmtrouser cuffs too tigh^Gt. ^CUnfashio^Fnabl^Ce to t^Ghe en^Bbd -^Amdrank his ^Dmale too light.^G ^GDeath's h^Cead belt b^Guckle -^Dyesterday'^Gs dr^Fams - ^Emthe transport c^Amaf' prophet of doo^Dm. ^GRinging no ^Cchange in ^Ghis doub^Dle-sewn seams i^Gn h^Fis ^Empost-war-b^Amabe gloom^D.

N^Ebow h^Fe's ^Bbtoo o^Cld^F to Rock'n'R^Bboll ^F, ^Ebbut he^A's too young to ^Dmdie. Y^Ebes h^Fe wa^Bbs too^C o^Fld to Rock'n^Bb'Roll^F, ^Eb but ^Bbhe's too young to ^Fdie.

He once owned a Harley Davidson and a Triumph Bonneville. Counted his friends in burned-out spark plugs and prays that he always will. But he's the last of the blue blood greaser boys All of his mates are doing time: married with three kids up by the ring road sold their souls straight down the line. And some of them own little sports cars and meet at the tennis club do's. For drinks on a Sunday - work on Monday. They've thrown away their blue suede shoes. Now they're too old to Rock'n'Roll and they're too young to die. So the old Rocker gets out his bike to make a ton before he takes his leave. Up on the A1 by Scotch Corner just like it used to be. And as he flies - tears in his eyes - his wind-whipped words echo the final take and he hits the trunk road doing around 120 with no room left to brake. And he was too old to Rock'n'Roll but he was too young to die. No, you're never too old to Rock'n'Roll if you're too young to die.

Jethro Tull - Too Old To Rock `n` Roll, Too Young To Die