I'll meet you in the Star Room
In thirty or forty years
You can bring along your dentures
I'll bring my souvenirs
I'll meet you in the Star Room
For cocktails and for cheers
And we can have a conversation
That neither of us hears
And I'll help you with your walker
If you'll help with my Depends, and
We can find the moon
With a telescopic lens
I'll meet you in the Star Room
For a final festive fling
And I'll hold your pale, arthritic hand
Against my double-chin
And if we should spot Orion
Then we'll kiss beneath it's glow, and
If the time is right
We'll let go...