(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.