The Taxi can Wait Because I Didn't Order It and Anyway I'm Not Ready

The cadence of my life has gone askew,
I should be on the falling notes (like usual endings do),
but mine are on the rise again, just like a lark ascending;
we’re born, we breathe and then we die, but my life’s never ending.

It’s not as if I can deny I’m getting on a bit,
but my pipe is not for smoking and my slippers do not fit,
my bones are not yet aching and I think I can confirm,
I much prefer the dance floor to the company of worms.

I’m not quite ready yet, my friends, to cash in all my winnings,
when I go, you all will know, I had a damned good innings,
nor will I go out quietly, of that you can be certain,
I’ll spill the fuel and strike the match to burn my final curtain.

This tune to which we all must dance, this dismal song of aging,
It’s not for me, as you will see, when I go I’ll be raging,
At least that’s what I’d like to think, but really, then again,
There’re things that we are never told like ‘how’, and ‘why’ and ‘when.’