I am not afraid to get old,
I am not afraid to walk my road all the way tall,
Because I know one day
On my birthday party,
A boy will give me flowers and say,
We love you grandma.
Little girl in pink skirt will sit on my lap,
A baby with surprised look will stare in the high chair.
I will be thinking about sometimes in 1990 when grandmother told me,
Come here, look down in the water.
She would touch it with her hand,
And I will see an old woman, blond hair, bright lipstick, smile,
Children, cake, balloons, its a house, a party..
But I don't understand what they say, its not my language..
