On the cupboard, next to the old clock
there is a faded photo I know so well
of my father standing alone
looking at our old home
His mom and dad used to live here
He married my mom right here
In this little house, there is a room
in which my baby brother was born
When I think of days gone by
I make the pictures come alive
I feel the longing for the old dwelling
and for everything I left behind.
Two windows, the crooked chimney,
The roof made of straw that still is fragrant
That's our little old house
On top of the hill it still stands alone.
Today the house waits alone
for someone to walk through it's door
Only a swallow takes a shelter here
from the rains and the storms
Wherever I go, wherever I am
I keep it's picture in my heart.
There is nothing in this world
to replace the memories that live on.
When I think of days gone by
I make the pictures come alive
I feel the longing for the old dwelling
for everything I left behind.
Two windows, the crooked chimney,
The roof made of straw that still is fragrant
That's our little old house
Still on the top of the hill it stands
When I think of days gone by
I make the pictures come alive
I feel the longing for the old dwelling
for everything I left behind.
Two windows, the crooked chimney,
The roof made of straw that still is fragrant
That's our little old house
On top of the hill it still stands alone.
That's our little old house
On top of the hill it still stands alone.
