When I get older, just isn't fair
many years from now
will I have a so-much-younger valentine?
Welsh brunette with lips sweet like wine?
If I wake up at quarter to three
will she open bathroom door?
Douglas, he's got one.
Will I have caught one
when I'm 64?

I'll be older, true...
But if she'll say the word
I could love her, too.

I could be handy, take her to games
at new Stadium.
Show her Bernie Williams' Monument Park plaque.
Watch those Yankees knock home runs back.
Of course, with inflation, seats that we'd get
miles above the floor.
I will be crashing
she'll still be smashing
when I'm 64!

Every summer, we could rent a cottage
down at Point Pleasant Beach
if it's not too dear.
By that point we'd see
(By that point see)
our children play with those
of Rachel and Ashley!

It won't be Catherine, say with despair
in my field of view.
Indicate precisely that what she means to be:
Eighteen now, then be forty-three!
It's May-December, Christmassy feel
ours forevermore!
That's what I'm hoping:
to avoid this moping
in 2034!
Hoo!