MP3 
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 have left
Are photographs and your eyes to cry
Your eyes to cry
Your eyes to cry
