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