(h. woods, g. kahn)
It's just a little streetWhere old friends meet,I'd love to wander backSomeday.
To you, it may be old,And sort of tumbled down,But it means a lot to folksIn my hometown.
Although I'm rich or poor,I still feel sureI'm welcome as the flowers in may.
It's just a little streetWhere old friends meet,And treat you in the same old way.
~interlude~
Although I'm rich or poor,I still feel sureI'm welcome as the flowers in may.
It's just a little streetWhere old friends meet,And treat you in the same old way.
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