In the rags of his memory of his mistress, In the rags of his memory of his mistress,

One day own would be a home His hands holding its key Despair not known Failure not perceiv... One day own would be a home His hands holding its key Despair not known ...

My rags hang on the washing line... My rags hang on the washing line...

Once there were lovely days When I used to roll in cash Once there were lovely days When I used to roll in cash

In the name of the never ending love that each one of us grows in our bosom. In the name of the never ending love that each one of us grows in our bosom.

The poor children, Misses the lovely alphabet ..... The poor children, Misses the lovely alphabet .....