שיא מיוזיק

I'm a very old man
And my eyes Have not see
Most of the things people say to me
Bloom from my memory
Oh but times of pain and suffering
Still clear in my mind
As the numbers that by
What will become of all the memories
Are they scattered with dust in the wind
And who will face the world
Know what to say
Disappear when the last survivor

When I take my grandchildren close to me
And Azvoaotio track the path of my tears
He asks me
Grandpa Why do you cry?
What are you scared?
I tell him
Once there was another child
This smell the sweat
And felt this love
But he was taken before poor
Only I was left to mourn
What will become of all the memories?
Are they scattered the dust in the wind?
And who would face a world that now want to deny?
How can they believe someone
He did not hear the crying
There is little I can say or do
To change things
Time passes quickly
Like a fleeting shadow
No one will remember
The wounds of the past
What will become of all the memories?