When you are old and gray and cold
By some hospital's TV,
Rusty scissors will shine like gold
And you shall remember me.
If a nurse enters your room,
You see my eyes in her face!
Isn't fun how life's loom
Weaves threads of disgrace?
When you are rotten and always seen
Tormented by memory's fleas,
Oh, my dear, I'm not mean,
But I mean that life is.