I am old, very old, but I don't need a wattle   I am old, yes, I'm old, but I'm not a dry nettle   All I need is man who is high in his mettle   Glory oh glory, glory, when the evening declines   Glory oh glory, glory, as the evening declines      And before the black hunger, I'd husbands in plenty   Maybe your granddad was one of the many   Or was he that red-coat who swigged more than any?   Glory oh glory, glory, when the evening declines   Glory oh glory, glory, as the evening declines      You can have all your gold, the high king of all metals   With soft talk and kisses we'll never want better   And the west of a ditch is the best of all settles   Glory oh glory, glory, when the evening declines   Glory oh glory, glory, as the evening declines      I am old, very old, but I don't need a wattle   I am old, yes, I'm old, but I'm not a dry nettle   So you clout the pot, and I'll clout the kettle   Glory oh glory, glory, when the evening declines   Glory oh glory, glory, as the evening declines