Hair on your head, white as the snow
Old man stand feeding the pigeons
The body is rust, skin is like dust
Seen in the last light of the evening
Lines on your face each one a trace
Of happiness, distance and sorrow
Lonely he stand, weak on your hands
Old man with too few tomorrows
Memories gone, friends passed along
Old man stand lost in your reveries
Life has been kind, to give you this time
To dream on the strand as the wind blows
People pass by, go on their way
Not wishing to engage conversation
You don't know why one look in your eye
Reminds them time it is wasted
Hair on your head white as the snow
Old man stand feeding the pigeons
Old man stand feeding the pigeons
The body is rust, skin is like dust
Seen in the last light of the evening
Lines on your face each one a trace
Of happiness, distance and sorrow
Lonely he stand, weak on your hands
Old man with too few tomorrows
Memories gone, friends passed along
Old man stand lost in your reveries
Life has been kind, to give you this time
To dream on the strand as the wind blows
People pass by, go on their way
Not wishing to engage conversation
You don't know why one look in your eye
Reminds them time it is wasted
Hair on your head white as the snow
Old man stand feeding the pigeons