(h. woodsg. kahn)

It’s just a little street
Where old friends meet
I’d love to wander back
Someday.

To youit may be old
And sort of tumbled down
But it means a lot to folks
In my hometown.

Although I’m rich or poor
I still feel sure
I’m welcome as the flowers in may.

It’s just a little street
Where old friends meet
And treat you in the same old way.

~interlude~

Although I’m rich or poor
I still feel sure
I’m welcome as the flowers in may.

It’s just a little street
Where old friends meet
And treat you in the same old way.




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