When I am old I want to live in a house, a house with a big front porch.
I will sit on my porch in a chair, a chair that rocks back and forth, back...and...forth.
I will rock in my chair and listen to leaves on the trees, rustling as breezes pass by,
And I will watch people walk by, on their way down the street, passing by like the breeze has caught them too.
Instead of nurses, I will talk to the voices in my head
And I will never be alone
With the people I see around me, whether they are really there or not.
I will talk to whoever comes by, tell great stories true and not,
And hope no one stays long, except those who have fun.
They can stay for as long as they like.
I will walk for as long as I can, and then shuffle with a cane,
And then one day I will begin to roll in a chair,
Until the day the wheels on my chair roll for me no more.
Then from the kindness of friends I will eat what is brought to me
But instead of pills I will eat cookies and cake
And I will say goodbye to the friends who kept me company for so long,
Friends who sat on my porch or laughed with me in my mind.
I will hear no machines, I will feel no needles or tubes,
The voices in my head will drown out the doctors
And the bitter taste of pills will not shrivel my tongue.
I will not stay alive if I cannot live,
I will not be alone if I am on my porch,
Where the breeze blows past the leaves, as the leaves say goodbyyyyyyye....goodbyyyyyyye.