Old Age - Little Nemo

One more candle today

It makes eighty now

They came for your birthday

In the little grey town

In the narrow street

Where your house stands

There you live alone

Since he has gone

You ask your children

To come more often

«Why not on Sunday?»

«Maybe» they say

Memories seem to be dreams

When you’re in the old age

The cat sleeps on the pillow

At least, he won’t leave you

The clock strikes

As to remind you

That someday you will go

And meet again your old fellow

Memories seem to be dreams

When you’re in the old age

You remember the holidays

You used to spend by the sea

And the salty wind

On your face

Which was young and pretty

Memories seem to be dreams

When you’re in the old age

Now, all you’ve got left

Are photographs and your eyes to cry

Your eyes to cry

Your eyes to cry