my, my, my, my, my

We shall walk and talk
in gardens all misty wet with rain.
And I will never, never, never grow so old again

Oh sweet thing, sweet thing.
My, my, my, my, my sweet thing.
And I will raise my hand up
into the night cloud's sky.

I will never grow so old again.

And I'm younger now - (history my dear friend. years away you say my name, I'm settled down and I won't give up again.) richard buckner
I keep that song it keeps in mind. younger now. settled down. won't give up again.

and I like rain, I like walking in it and talking, I like night.