Just a line to say I'm living, That I'm not among the dead. Though I'm getting more forgetful And more mixed up in my head.

For sometimes, I can't remember, When I stand at the foot of the stairs, If I must go up for something, Or I've just come down from there.

And before the frig' so often, My poor mind is filled with doubt, Have I just put food away, or Have I come to take some out.

And there's times when it's dark out, with my night cap on head, I don't know if I'm retiring, Or just getting out of bed.

So, if it's my turn to write you, There's no need in getting sore, I may think that I have written, And I don't want to be a bore.

So, remember that I love you, And wish that you were here, But now it's nearly mail time, So I'll say "goodbye" my dear.

There I stood beside the mail box, With a face so very red, Instead of mailing you my letter I'd opened it instead.