You thought to buy me a skyscraper,
    but you knew I wouldn't bear its weight
You thought to buy me a home by the country,
    but you knew I wouldn't stay in it too long
You thought to buy me a tree-house,
    but you knew I wouldn't climb trees
So you bought yourself a bucket and
with its help you built for me a sandcastle by the shore;
I couldn't refuse,
   and at that moment I grasped your hands and held onto them tightly.

And even though that sand castle doesn't stand there by the shore,
Your gift to me is always for you to keep, and for me to be thankful for.