(h. woods, g. kahn)



It's just a little street
Where old friends meet,
I'd love to wander back

Someday.



To you, it 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.