(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.