In the future, I intend to grow old.

Safely held in lover's arms,

Oh me, Oh my, My lust.

Helpless in my lover's arms,

Doing what I must.

I must live each new day through

And forget what is wrong,

Live through each day and be happy

When we all sing the same song.

A song of joy, A song of hope,

Is just as shrill as sorrow,

A song that forever shall presume 

That the future is the same as tomorrow.

For tomorrow we wake, in out lover's arms,

Such a hot embrace is cold.

Still, we hold on, for that is our purpose.

That is what we are told.

For fear of growing old.