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. 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 Whight 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