Once upon a time I was a looker
The ladies, oh they got their fill
When night time came they were standing in line
To be with me gave them a thrill
They called me their strong struttin rooster
I called them my sweet little chickens
But now days they don't even see me
And they call me poor old Slim Pick'ins
The ladies don't love me no more
No, the ladies don't love me no more.
Age took the thrill out of thrilling
And what’s left over is just shy of chilling
And all of those sweet little chickens
Feel sorry for poor old Slim Pick'ins.
In my days of fast women and wine
I lived through a good party or two in my time
I could get any bird with my gift of sweet word
and shock of dark curls and my sparkling eyes
Oh the ladies would swoon in my arms. They
would tremble like leaves on a tree. I could give
them a line and it worked every time and they'd
scrap like mad cats over me.
Nowadays I long for the old days. But the present
is far from the past. When they look at me now it's
with pity, in the old days their eyes were like glass
Nowadays I dream of the good times when my bed
never lacked for a dame. But now my beds colder
than lonely, and I long for a fast burning flame.
They called me their strong struttin rooster
I called them my sweet little chickens.
But nowadays they don't even see me.
And they call me poor old Slim Pick'ins
Stephen Kuper 7-9-2013