From the blue, old coat of mine
i pick the seeds wich i lost at the
age of nine.

Those had to be once my dear, great trees but,
now i can only hear how loud their soul scream:

"Shame on you! You had your time, but didn't
even give a try"

That's the way how things go now.
People come and people go.

Those little trees were ment to grow but,
i cut them down and let our friendship go along

"Shame on you! You had your time, but didn't
even give a try"

20 years and time goes on but, still i can't help feeling alone.
I throw the seeds and turn my back to them
i sigh:

"I wish i would had time to grow my seeds alive"