I'm gonna miss these window panes,
and these windy lanes,
When I leave these streets.
But I'll never miss these slippery tiles,
'cause I always slipped on these.
I wouldn't pass on my house and its keys,
If it were me.

This will change my links of life,
the way I live and the way I die.
I don't want to leave, this sheltered sheath,
and this, this is my only greed.
All my friends will be left behind,
and the new rooms will not smell like.
I wish we could rest, in our worn-out nest,
and this, this is my only need.