I feel like this song is a natural progression from “I Want to Hold Your Hand.” The guy is talking to his girlfriend about growing old together, hoping she’ll still love him even when he’s old and gray.
Don’t we all wonder about that at some point in a relationship? We can be head over heels for somebody, and even if they feel the same way, who doesn’t think about what will happen years down the road?
When I get older,
Losing my hair,
Many years from now
Will you still be sending me a Valentine?
Bottle of wine?
Maybe young people don’t think about this shit too much. If you’re serious about somebody, you should be looking beyond the present moment. It’s an awkward conversation to have, you know, the where-is-this-going talk. So a song like this can come in handy when you want to bring it up. It’s light and funny and catchy, and it asks the right questions in a non-confrontational, silly way. We don’t always get the answers we want when we ask such questions, so we avoid them when we really shouldn’t.
Not everyone wants to grow old with someone, but I do. It’s not about being needy or being afraid to be alone. I have realized recently that I am far too passionate to be by myself forever. I need somebody to share my love with. I love very deeply, whether it’s family, friends, or a lover. My passion overwhelms me at times, so I can only imagine how smothering it must feel to others. But my feelings are sincere, and I would do anything for the people I love.
I spent many years alone, and when I finally met someone decent I understood what it felt like to be appreciated and cared about by a man I was interested in. And I understood that what was viewed by the men in my past as crazy obsession was not that at all; it was misplaced passion. Those men were not right for me for so many reasons, so I felt crazy when they didn’t share my feelings. When you find somebody who is good for you, your crazy will fade away. I mean, I still have my moments, but it’s not the self-destructive kind of crazy I used to live with.
Now, if only I could have that conversation…
Will you still need me,
Will you still feed me,
When I’m 64?