He's a good guy, my old man
He's all alone and he's waiting
He's filled with so much sadness
from all his wandering.
And I watch him from afar
But we're so different
It's just that he grew up in a century
Filled with tramways and red wine.
Old man, my dear old man
Now you walk slower
Like the forgiving wind
I'm your blood1, my old man
I'm your silence and your time...
His sight is good
And he's got a heavy figure
Age has come to him
Without a carnival, nor a krewe2
I have the new years
And my father has the old years
He carries the pain inside
And its history is timeless.
Old man, my dear old man
Now you walk slower
Like the forgiving wind
I'm your blood, my old man
I'm your silence and your time...
I am your blood, my old man.
1. I'm your son.2. Reference: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Krewe