You are old, sweetheart William—your hair is grown grey
But your heart is still tender and true;
And though often in anger I’ve turned me away,
Yet I’ve ever been faithful to you.
You are old, sweetheart William—you’ve courted me long,
And you’ve given me presents galore;
But I want—and I hope you won’t think I am wrong—
I want just one little thing more.
Don’t refuse, sweetheart William, my modest request—
The control of my household affairs;