When I Go

If we're both not married by twenty-two,

could I be so bold and ask you?

If we're both not married by twenty-three,

will you make my year, and ask me?

If we're both not married by twenty-four,

will you pass me those knee pads and I'll get on the floor.

If we're both not married by twenty-five,

I hope that there's some childish spark still alive.

Cos there are so many lessons

That I just never get to learn

And there are so many questions that still burn, like

Will you hold my hand when I go?

Will you hold my hand when I go?

Will you hold my hand when I go?

Will you hold my hand when I go?

If I get to thirty and I don't have a wife,

I'll ask you nicely but I won't ask twice.

If I get to forty and I don't have a spouse,

I'll fashion you a letter and I'll send it to your house.

If I get to sixty will you let me slip away,

into an armchair for the rest of my days.

Cos you've got your family and I've got mine,

The love that we share is for another time.

Cos there are so many lessons

That I just never get to learn

And there are so many questions that still burn, like

Will you hold my hand when I go?

Will you hold my hand when I go?

Will you hold my hand when I go?

Will you hold my hand when I go?