At home I've still got a postcard
On which a church, a cart and horse
A butcher's, J. van der Ven
A pub, a lady on a bike
It probably means nothing to you
But it's where I was born
This village, I still recall how it was
The farmers' kids in the class
A cart rattling over the cobbles
The town hall with a pump in front
A sandy lane cutting through the corn
And along my dad's garden path
I saw the tall trees standing
I was a kid and knew no better
Than that it'd never end
How simply they lived back then
In simple houses amid green
With country flowers and a hedge
But apparently they lived the wrong way
The village has been modernised
And now they're on the right track
Just see how rich life is
And live in concrete boxes
With lots of glass, so you can see
How the sofa sits at Mien's
And her sideboard with plastic roses
And along my dad's garden path
I saw the tall trees standing
I was a kid and knew no better
Than that it'd never end
The village youth huddle together a bit
In miniskirts and Beatle hair
And yell along with beat music
I know, it's their right
The new age, just like you say
But it makes me a bit melancholy
I still knew their dads
They bought licorice for a cent
I saw their moms skipping rope
That village back then, it's gone
This is all that's left for me
A postcard and memories
When along my dad's garden path
I still saw the tall trees standing
I was a kid, how could I know
That it'd be gone for good