I got to thinking the other day. <br />About you and me and senile decay. <br />Will I still be red hot when I’m sixty four. <br />Will you still turn me on as you did years before. <br /> <br />When we find a hotel and go to book in. <br />Will we ever remember what names to fill in. <br />When I arrive a bit late will you still hear my knock. <br />Or will you be stone deaf and keep the door locked. <br /> <br />Will we both still fit in the bath late at night. <br />Will we look in the mirror and not get a fright. <br />Will we still walk for miles come rain or come shine. <br />Have days full of smiles and drink lots of wine. <br /> <br />Will we go to the disco or will you say hell no. <br />Will we cuddle and dance slow or do the ago-go. <br />Will you still be my lady in red. <br />Will you still turn every head. <br /> <br />When I think of these things in the future I know. <br />I get a bit sad and a little bit low. <br />Still there’s one consolation I’d like to relate. <br />I know you won’t like it, you might get irate. <br /> <br />You’ll be older than me, when I’m sixty four. <br />And drawing your pension to meet me once more. <br />But don’t worry darling, I know you’ll still be. <br />Pretty as ever and the whole world to me.<br /><br />David Barlow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-i-m-sixty-four-3/
