Текст: Barbara Dickson. The 7 Ages of Woman. When I'm 64.

When I get older, losing my hair,
Many year from now
Will you still be sending me a valentine,
Birthday greetings, bottle of wine
If I've been out 'till quarter to three
Would you lock the door (yes!)
Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four

You'll be older too
And if you say the word
I could stay with you

I could be handy, mending a fuse
When your lights are gone
You can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday morning 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 Wight
If it's not too dear
We shall scrimp and save
Grandchildren on your knee
Vera, Chuck and Dave

Send me a postcard, drop me a line,
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