Why would I wish I were twenty years younger?

Was 1997 so great?

And even though it's getting late -

I'm 84 - I feel no hunger

To seek within the past refuge

With one proviso and it's huge:

You were there. Present content

In fact's a fraud and though I try

As best I can to just get by

And not to think my life is spent

It would be hopeless, save for the thought

Of all the joy your love has brought -

So great that joy that it survives

And hugely comforts many lives

And so my will to live revives.

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