Auteur: Ellen Pels

You grew up in the outdoors
On your bike or climbing trees
While the Beatles sang
I wanna hold your hand
On your record player
He’d scream sweet child in time
We saw the world
In shades of black and white

Yes we are growing old
Yet you’re still a sight to behold
You’re like fine wine
My sweet love
My sweet love

When I see your wrinkles
And the lines around your eyes
The creases
A road map of your whole life
Each furrow has a meaning
There’s a story in every line
Revealing
Part of your history

Yes we are growing old
Yet you’re still a sight to behold
You’re a classic
My sweet love
My sweet love

Yes we are growing old
Yet you’re still a sight to behold
You are vintage
My sweet love
Yes we are growing old
Yet you’re still a sight to behold
You are timeless
My sweet love
My sweet love