When I'm sixty four

When I get older 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.


You'll be older too
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,
grandchildren on your knee:
Vera, Chuck and Dave.

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

Give me your answer, fill in a form
mine for evermore
will you still need me, will you still feed me,
when I'm sixty-four.