He was old, he was cold, he was lonely,
His family and friends had all gone,
Each day was just merely survival
And he'd barely the will to go on.
She, too, had been long deserted
And struggled along on her own,
She'd spent all her life being needed
But ended up useless, unknown.
Head-down to the shop she would shuffle,
To buy bits that she could afford,
A pension-book's worth of the cheapest
To share with herself and the Lord.
One day they passed on there lone journey,
They nodded and mumbled hello,
He walked to the shop, she walked homeward,
But each felt a tiny wee glow.
They next day again they were walking,
By accident or was it design?
They met and they stood a while talking,
And for that while all seemed so fine.
And each had the same inner feeling
Which gave them each quite a surprise,
For all they could see, all that mattered,
Was the young love in each other's eyes.
Now he does the walk, does the shopping,
While she's at home cooking for two,
He picks her wild flowers, returning.
For both, life has started anew.
And each night when she draws the curtains,
They look at each other and grin.
There's nothing more rejuvenating
Than Horlicks and living in sin.