I would like for to have in the winter of life
A neat little cottage for me and my wife
With a barrel of ale and a snug little fire
And food that's sufficient is all I desire.
For I'm growing old and my locks are all grey
No more will I dance with the young and the gay
For time has determined this route to unfold
I've a mark on my forehead to show I am old
I heard this haunting song a couple of years back at the Tap and Spile, Whitby. If anyone knows about it I'd love to hear. That's all that comes to mind.
My old dad, my dear old dad Charlie, a great singer died that same year aged ninety five. He said by the time you reach ninety you know everything. All you've got to do is remember it.
HTML line breaks added. --JoeClone, 20-Mar-02.