Now I'm 62, with Poetic Obeisance to the Beatles

Somehow got older with all my hair,
Since tomorrow’s now.
And I still receive from you a Valentine
Birthday greetings, bottle of wine.

Social Security sends me a check
Just to prove I’m poor,
Will they still need me, will you still read me,
When I'm sixty-four?

You'll be older too,
And if you say the word,
I could stay for you.

I could be dirty, digging a grave
When your dog has died.
You could warm your tuches by the fireside
Sunday morning tanning a hide,
Doing the garden, digging the weeds,
Who could ask for more?

Will you still need me, will you still read me,
When I'm sixty-four?

Every summer we can run the tiller,
In my back yard patch, if it's not too wet
Then we’ll plant the seeds.
Force mulching on your knees
Just to kill the weeds.

PM on facebook, Tweet me a line
Stating point of view
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
This old gardener’s wasting away.

Give me your answer, give me a call
Friends for evermore
Will you still need me, will you still read me.
When I'm sixty-four?