When I was a boy, the moon was a pearl the sun a yellow gold.
But when I was a man, the wind blew cold the hills were upside down.
But now that I have gone from here there´s no place I´d rather be
than to float my chances on the tide Back in the good old world.
On October´s last, I´ll fly back home rolling down winding way
And all I´ve got´s a pocket full of flowers from my grave
But now summer is gone I remember it best
Back in the good old world I remember when, she held my hand
and we walked home alone in the rain how pretty her mouth, how soft her hair
nothing can be the same and there´s a rose upon her breast
where I long to lay my head and her hair was so yellow
and the wine was so red Back in the good old world.