When we are old,
And my legs are too weak
To twirl for you,
And my cheeks are wrinkled
From laughing with you,
And my hands are rough,
From the tools I've used,
And my memory is fading,
From the damages of age,
And your arms are too weak
To toss me into the lake,
And your eyes are yellowed a bit,
From the nights we stayed up drinking,
And your voice is raspy,
From talking for hours upon years,
I will still be in love with you.