When I get fatter, losing my hair, many years from now,
Will you still be sending me a Frontline, head massages, piece of pie?
If I'd run out pee at the tree, would you lock the door?
Will you still pet me, will you still feed me,
When I'm sixty-four?
You'll be fatter, too. Aaah, and if you give the treat, I could stay with you.
call me a ginga, drop me a line tell me you got food
Indicate precisely where they would be, yours sincerely eating away.
Give me your burger, over a bun, mine forever more.
Will you still pet me, will you still feed me, when I'm sixty four?
(the original song from beatles....)