Forgotten and silent an old house,
Sleeping long ago, doesn't care about human passions.
It's stones remember each step, each tear,
Each falling leaf's moan, each snowflake on the pavement.
Autumn sun will heat its roof, the birds will look
Into all its windows, the wind will caress the cold walls,
The moon will whisper the dreams of distant youth.
Sleeping long ago, doesn't care about human passions.
It's stones remember each step, each tear,
Each falling leaf's moan, each snowflake on the pavement.
Autumn sun will heat its roof, the birds will look
Into all its windows, the wind will caress the cold walls,
The moon will whisper the dreams of distant youth.
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