I grow old i shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolled says elliot I grow old i shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolled says elliot Days keep growing short, nights too Let us go then, you and i And try to unlearn, says elliot He seeks for return and burns ancient love letters Let us go then you and i and lie by marble stone says elliot And put a record on the gramophone Lie down dear On the weed Don't weep dear Gayly clad Sadness is a radical quantity says elliot Sadness is a long round ribbon, says he Sadness is beautiful I grow old i shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolled says elliot I grow old i shall wear my trousers rolled says elliot