Over The Hill

  Oh, birthday schmirthday, dearth of mirth-day, curse my earthly worth
This milestone millstone rods my back, to trudge this one way track
Mixed metaphors for getting old, foreboding woes untold
Washed up and past my use by date, my fate seems less than great

But over the hill
Sounds like a lovely place to be
Twilight's alright with me
Out to pasture's nicer still
Over the hill
No more to climb, you're on a roll
Unwind your mind and stroll
In a field of thyme and sage
Smile lines are all the rage
All the world's a passing stage
We're merely here to play
Over the hill, not far away

Though greying and fraying, the slow decaying will never stop me playing
My brain still reels with youthful zeal, but some wounds never heal
The increasing creasing never ceasing, my skin's old spring releasing
I wear my history on my hide, with Wabi Sabi pride

One foot in the grave is no way to behave
Once you're laying in state it's too late to lick your plate
No one gets to gloat, we're all in the same boat
We've got to savour every bit
A ghost can't make the most of it

For each mountain conquered, peak to peak, there's always more to seek
Don't lose your edge, your razor wit, life has a point to it
So sleep enough, drink water, exercise, it's what the wise advise
And clean your room and eat more greens, these aren't just rules for teens

Do I make a living or make a life? Stay safe or get in strife?
The YOLO risk dichotomy. It cuts both ways, you see
Future past regret fret, milk unspilled, potential unfulfilled
But I'll be right back in my prime in only two years' time

And over the hill... [Chorus...]

Hatch to dispatch, from womb to tomb
Natal to fatal, crib to crypt, shine delight, quit d' gloom
'Cos if people really knew
How you doubt the good you do
They'd parade from near and far
To let you know how grouse you are
To let you know how grouse you are

And the young folks might keep this in mind too, the future creeps up behind you
Over the hill. over the hill, not far away

Mal Webb 2016

On the 2004 Great Victorian Bike Ride, I improvised a version of this chorus to spur on the cyclists as they battled their way up Laver's Hill. I then turned it into a song for the 40th birthday of my sister, Mary. Then in the run up to my 50th birthday, I decided to rewrite the lyrics more in the manner I'd originally conceived it. Mary totally approved, as although she loved the song I wrote for her, she felt a bit awks when I played it live... understandably!