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There was an old man, near the tree
Every step he did left, small footprints
In his hands he had a big box, which contained only
Regrets, if I, and "How"?
And he watches his footsteps, colorless and fake
And now he prays and prays, to have another day

There was an old man, near the sea
Every step he did left, a great footprint
He was not afraid of regrets, he had fought for what
What he really, really wanted
He continued to walk, walk by the sea
He left great footprints because he really lived

Every man, in the end, can look behind him
Let your footsteps great, and you will see the wonder