I am old, very old, but I don't need a wattlenI am old, yes, I'm old, but I'm not a dry nettlenAll I need is man who is high in his mettlenGlory oh glory, glory, when the evening declinesnGlory oh glory, glory, as the evening declinesnnAnd before the black hunger, I'd husbands in plentynMaybe your granddad was one of the manynOr was he that red-coat who swigged more than any?nGlory oh glory, glory, when the evening declinesnGlory oh glory, glory, as the evening declinesnnYou can have all your gold, the high king of all metalsnWith soft talk and kisses we'll never want betternAnd the west of a ditch is the best of all settlesnGlory oh glory, glory, when the evening declinesnGlory oh glory, glory, as the evening declinesnnI am old, very old, but I don't need a wattlenI am old, yes, I'm old, but I'm not a dry nettlenSo you clout the pot, and I'll clout the kettlenGlory oh glory, glory, when the evening declinesnGlory oh glory, glory, as the evening declines