When Your Hair Has Turned To Winter

When your hair has turned to winter
And your teeth are in a plate,
When your get up and go
Has gone to stop and wait -
I’ll still be loving you.
When your attributes have shifted
And you’re not as spry as now,
I’ll count the joys you bring me, not the wrinkles on your brow
I’ll still be loving you.
When the crackle in your voice
Matches that within your knee,
And the times are getting frequent
That you don’t remember me -
I’ll still be loving you.
Growing old is not a sin,
It’s something we all do.
I hope you’ll always understand
I’ll still be loving you.