In the town where I live, there's an old folks home run by the county. It's a big old house with a long veranda running clear across the front. And every evening, just before sundown, if it's not raining or too cold, the old folks come out to set us back. And sometimes when I get to thinking about that old folks home, I can't help but wonder what it feels like to be one of those forgotten old people. And you know I can almost hear the creaking of those rocking chairs and an old man saying, well I guess we've had a good life Maggie, a good life you and me. Cause here we are on the front porch Maggie, you're eighty-five and I'm eighty-three. And when I think back to the day we married, the day it all began, I can still see the neighbors all shaking their heads cause your daddy had called on the reverend they said with a shotgun in his hand. But you know that I loved you anyway Maggie, I wouldn't have let you down. I was bound to be your husband Maggie, sure as the world is round, it's round. And I knew that when I first laid eyes on you, we were meant to be. Cause here we are on the front porch Maggie, you're eighty-five and I'm eighty-three. And it seems like yesterday, we started out. We had a few rough years, we did without. And somehow all the pieces fit, we made the best of it. And now, and now, well I guess we've had a good life Maggie, a good life you and me. Cause here we are on the front porch Maggie, you're eighty-five and I'm eighty-three.