Once in a while, as you probably know,
You encounter a man who's inclined to be slow.
Wherever he goes he's usually late.
Whoever he knows will soon learn to wait.
He's slow to anger, he's slow to smile.
Whatever he does, seems to take quite a while.
I know such a man, I won't mention his name.
But I'll tell what happened to him, just the same.
His slowness of pace seemed to make his wife worry
Whatever he did she would tell him to hurry.
It was hurry up 'Hon', you're making us wait.
Now hurry up, dear, we're going to be late.
When the kids came along they took up the chime.
Now Dad, if you'll hurry, we'll make it on time.
And then the grandchildren so cute and so small
Shouted, Hurry grandpa! Let's go and play ball.
He was slow to grow old, but he finally did.
and to be slow to die, he made quite a bid.
He lingered along for days on end
While his folks gathered round, both kindred and friend.
He finally said to his wife at his side,
I guess I can't last, though I really have tried.
I soon will be leaving this old world of worry.
She patted his hand and said, Honey, please hurry.
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