At 62, I’ll need a saviour!
Who’ll bollock me for bad behaviour
And bear upon His steely shoulder
The grief I’ll feel at growing older.
If I procure this Prince of Peace
My fear of death will surely cease!
At 62, I’ll need forgiveness!
That’s certainly a saviour’s business:
To die the death and do the bleeding
And answer people’s prayerful pleading.
For oldies too, I think you’ll find
Are sinners of the human kind!
At 62, I’ll need salvation!
For feet, I’ll need a firm foundation.
A way, a truth, a life worth living,
A Lord, who’s full of free forgiving,
A rock, who doesn’t rock or roll,
Who’s sacrosanct as sacred scroll!
At 62, I’ll need some healing!
For sickness that I’ve been concealing
Within my soul, like child who\'s sleeping;
I’ll wake it with my wistful weeping,
Then walk it over to the cross
And make a gain from saviour’s loss!
At 62, I’ll take it steady,
For life to come, I won’t be ready
But even so, I’ll be preparing;
Without a saviour, won’t be daring
To step into that great unknown;
Since only losers die alone!
At 62, I’ll need a saviour!
Who’ll bollock me for bad behaviour
And bear upon His steely shoulder
The grief I’ll feel at growing older.
If I procure this Prince of Peace
My fear of death will surely cease!