| When I get even more old than I am now
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| I’ll have a house overlooking the water
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| I’ll read all the books that I never got 'round to
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| And pile my suitcases up in the corner
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| The lights of the city they blink off and on again
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| Names in my memory are there, then they’re gone again
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| Albums of photographs spread on the floor again
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| I’ll spend my evenings with Katherine of Oregon
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| I’ll fill my garage up with things I’ve no use for
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| Obsolete knick-knacks that there’s no excuse for
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| I’ll turn my back on the world’s grand illusions
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| Take my delights in the simplest amusements
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| The lights of the city they blink off and on again
|
| Names in my memory are there, then they’re gone again
|
| Albums of photographs spread on the floor again
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| I’ll spend my evenings with Katherine of Oregon
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| I’ll wear my clothes with their colors all clashing
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| They’ll be so old that they’ll come back in fashion
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| I’ll sit on the beach with my paper wrapped luncheon
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| I’ll enjoy being the ancient curmudgeon
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| The lights of the city they blink off and on again
|
| Names in my memory are there then they’re gone again
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| I’ll have a jukebox and play Lonnie Donegan
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| And I’ll spend my evenings with Katherine of Oregon |