When I get old, and losing my hair, many years
from now, Will you still be sending me a
Valentine,birthday greetings, bottle of wine?

If I'd been out 'till quarter to three,would you lock
the door? Will you still need me, will you still
feed me, When I'm sixty-four?

Hmm------mmm---mmmh. You'll be older, too.Aaah,
and if you say the word, I could stay with you.

I could be handy, mending a fuse, when your lights
have gone. You can knit a sweater by the fireside,
sunday mornings, go for a ride.

Doing the garden,digging the weeds, who could ask for more?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when
I'm sixty four?

Every summer we can rent a cottage
in the Isle of Wight if it's not too dear.
We shall scrimp and save. Ah, grandchildren on your knee, Vera, Chuck, and Dave.

Send me a postcard, drop me a line stating point of view.
Indicate precisely what you mean to say,
yours sincerely wasting away.

Give me your answer, fill in a form,
mine forever more. Will you still need me,
will you still feed me, when I'm sixty four?

by John Lennon/Paul McCartney