(©Thomas Schuber 2008)

His coat is lined with silver and his cave is packed with gold
He‘s piling years as everyone but don‘t seem to grow old
A little strange he‘s always been as people you could meet
Occasionally walking from his door and down my street

It‘s not exactly certain where he‘d gone so long ago
And what was in his bags and packs noone will ever know
He writes his own books often speaks in many foreign tongues
No argueing that he is big among the little ones

So up with the glasses and drink to the host, no matter what you thought of him tonight we like him most
It‘s hailing food, raining drink, a hundred years of this we‘ll think or maybe even more
A drink and a cheer to anyone of a hundredfortyfour

Now there‘s beer an vast supplies of heavy loaded dishes
the gifts and entertainment much to everybodys wishes
Fireworks of many colours cracking in the air,
Music played, old stories told and cheerin‘ everywhere

A speech then was delivered and as far as I could tell,
In clumsy words he uttered something like a last farewell
Don‘t know how he did it, was it tricks or good disguise
Anyway, he disappeared before my very eyes

So up with the glasses and look for your host, no matter what you thought of him tonight we fear him most
Some droppin‘ food, spillin‘ drink, a hundred years of this we‘ll think, or maybe even more
A look and a curse from anyone

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