Seventeen years ago you said br Something that sounded like Good-bye; br And everybody thinks that you are dead, br But I. br br So I, as I grow stiff and cold br To this and that say Good-bye too; br And everybody sees that I am old br But you. br br And one fine morning in a sunny lane br Some boy and girl will meet and kiss and swear br That nobody can love their way again br While over there br You will have smiled, I shall have tossed your hair.