If we're together When we're older, If one's not left for another, If one's not dead, Or out of sorts Or imprisoned on an institutional bed; Let me tell what lies ahead.
We'll go to sleep wearing socks, And rise by our internal clocks; While on walks we'll hold hands, And listen while the other talks. We'll sit content by the St. Clair River In Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter.
We'll have our tea and buttered toast, On weekends enjoy your Sunday Roast. Around the table our children sit, With grandkids we're blessed to be with. Then, in the evening, when all are gone, And we're in our home of homes, I'll confess my love again; You're all I've wanted all along.