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?
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 Wightif it`s not to 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
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