Deda1, Deda, listen to me
The things we don't dare to say to each other
The roses we don't dare to offer to each other
Lest they prick our fingers
Here they are
Deda, Deda
I owe it to you
Deda...Deda
You who sometimes talked about the time
Where you fled from the horror of the grenades
I imitated the Belgrade accent
And mocked me like a child
Like the child
Deda, Deda
Of your child
Deda...Deda
Come on, give me your hand Deda
Deda
Don't say anything if you don't know what Deda
Deda
Not a word, few gestures and then
Was I too young or you too old
So that I didn't see love in your eyes
Who was there quietly?
And I grew up
Deda, Deda
I made my life
Deda...Deda
Until one of my birthdays
Where they came out like a confession
The words that stayed too quiet
You told me you were proud,
Without seeming to be,
Deda
To be my grandfather
Deda
Come on, give me your hand Deda
Deda
Don't say anything if you don't know what Deda
Deda
Come on, give me your hand Deda
Deda
Don't say anything if you don't know what Deda
Deda
You had celebrated twenty-two summers
Before leaving your country
I blew out twenty-two candles
Before I went to sing my life
That makes at least one thing in common
Between you and me
Deda
Come on, give me your hand Deda
Deda
Don't say anything if you don't know what Deda
Deda
Come on, give me your hand Deda
Deda
Don't say anything, it suits you so well Deda
Deda
1. Grandpa, Grampa, Pop in Serbian, her paternal grandfather came from Serbia