Teško, gorko, lako

oh, it’s so tough to be old, to be old, and to be pure gold

so long secondary happiness
you left me in a big hurry
good morning, good old melancholy
what’s troubling you today?

dearest homesick hometowns of mine
you are the joy to Colonel no reason
we’ll drain you of your enthusiasm
and build the virtual Skadar upon Bojana

raise our foreheads high, but modest
while the wind stirs the medals on our chest
remember all that, good old computer
or did memory fail you too?

oh, it’s so bitter to be old, to be old, and to be pure gold
oh, it’s so easy to be old, to be old, and to be pure gold

it’s tough, bitter, and easy, to all
those mad frantic sailors

oh, it’s so nice to be old, to be old, and to be pure gold

Koprivica Marko