I was a little boy, Sunday mornings were hell.
And pastors told me what I couldn't do and what I could do.
Well, God always saw everything, big and stern like a cop,
So I dutifully put my sticky penny in the church bag.
And on Sunday afternoon my mother went to visit my aunt and I had to come along,
I got cake and wet kisses and a squeeze in my cheek and a cup of weak tea.
Yes, Aunt Julia, I look much older again.
I'll play the piano if you want,
but take your breasts off my shoulder.
/>I was a little boy, when it was my birthday I was allowed to blow out the candles on the cake that mother bought.
And my grandmother sobbed for a moment, oh, another year has passed,< br/>but no one ever heard what she said softly to me.
And suddenly aunt stood up and clapped her hands and called me her guy.
And she said: you have to play something for you aunt and the rest, because it's your birthday.
Yes, aunt Julia, I look much older again.
I'll play the piano if you want,
but take your breasts off my shoulder.
And now I'm older and now I live everywhere,
and in the morning I often don't know where I will sleep at night.
I travel around the world, chasing the sunlight .
I have left everyone, except Aunt Julia.
It's Sunday and there is nothing to do and I feel like going to my aunt
If she kisses me want to give, I have to bend down and she herself has to stand on her toes
Yes, Aunt Julia, I look much older again,
I'll play the piano if you want
But take your breasts off my shoulder
Yes, Aunt Julia, I look much older already,
I'll play the piano if you want
But take your breasts off my shoulder

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