When I was ten and you were three

I bounced and bounced you on my knee.

At eighty I will kiss you much

Because my knee has lost its touch.

Oh, what is fiction, what is fact?

It matters not, just so we act!

But if you yearn to bounce my knee

I’ll bounce you once, with kisses free!

Oh, so long we’ve been apart,

And Age says, “Go, it’s time to start.”

We can’t make up for sixty years

Unless in bliss time disappears.

So love me, dear, and I’ll love you,

And we will live our lives a-new!

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