Halid Muslimovic - Pismo
Ponekad napišem pismo
 koje nikom ne šaljem
 otkada zajedno nismo
 rijetko se i radujem
 Vratim se mladosti svojoj
 i prvoj cigareti
 sjetim se ljubavi naše
 i prepustim se sjeti Drugova pjesma, u avliji česma
 pred očima djetinjstvo budi se
 procvjetala lipa i Fiće škripa
 mirišu neke drage godine REF.
 Postao sam nešto drugačiji
 možda zato što sam stariji
 il' što shvatih da sam
 samo sjenka broj
 Da mogu sve razumjeti
 i mogu sve oprostiti
 al' teško mi nekako živjeti
 bez tebe stariti Ponekad napišem pismoHalid Muslimovic - Pismo - http://motolyrics.com/halid-muslimovic/pismo-lyrics-english-translation.html
 a naviru sjećanja
 naše priče, naše snove
 otimam od vremena
 Vratim se mladosti svojoj
 i prvoj cigareti
 sjetim se ljubavi nase
 i prepustim se sjeti Drugova pjesma, u avliji cesma
 pred ocima djetinjstvo budi se
 procvjetala lipa i Fice skripa
 mirisu neke drage godine REF.
 Postao sam nesto drugaciji
 mozda zato sto sam stariji
 il' sto shvatih da sam
 samo sjenka broj
 Da mogu sve razumjeti
 i mogu sve oprostiti
 al' tesko mi nekako zivjeti
 bez tebe stariti
Halid Muslimovic - A Letter (English translation)
Sometimes I write a letter
 that I don't send to anyone
 Since we're not together
 I rarely rejoice
 I go back to my youth
 and to my first cigarette
 I remember our love
 and get lost in memories
Friend's song, spigot in the yard
 in front of my eyes, childhood waking up
 lime tree in bloom and Fica's squeaking
 the scent of some dear years
I've become a bit different
 maybe because I'm older
 or because I realized I'm
 just a shadow a number
 That I can understand everything
 and forgive anything
 but I somehow find it hard to live without you
 get old without you
Sometimes I write a letterHalid Muslimovic - Pismo - http://motolyrics.com/halid-muslimovic/pismo-lyrics-english-translation.html
 and memories start coming back
 our stories our dreams
 I abduct from time
 I go back to my youth
 and my first cigarette
 I remember our love
 and get lost in memories
Friend's song, spigot in the yard
 in front of my eyes, childhood waking up
 lime tree in bloom and Fica's squeaking
 the scent of some dear years
I've become a bit different
 maybe because I'm older
 or because I realized I'm
 just a shadow a number
 That I can understand everything
 and forgive anything
 but I somehow find it hard to live without you
 get old without you
