There is a place that seems to call me,
No matter where I go,
A place I knew so long ago I'd like to wander down the streets again,
And throw away my shoes,
Maybe call and see some people I once knew.
If I could only see the places where we used to stop,
To have a hasty sandwich from the corner shop,
The I am sure the daily troubles,
of this silly old conceited world,
Would never find the time to get me down, no,
For things were kinda nice in my old town.
And there's a spot just up the river,
Where the gang would always be,
Perhaps they still remember me,
Perhaps I'd find a girl I used to know,
And rent an old canoe,
We could drift along and sing a song or two.
If I could only see the old school yard,
Where we used to play,
Peering out the windows on a rainy day,
Then I am sure the daily troubles,
of this silly old conceited world,
Would never find the time to get me down, no,
For things were kind of nice in my old home town.
If I could only see the places where we used to stop,
To have a hasty sandwich from the corner shop,
Then I am sure the daily troubles,
of this silly old conceited world,
Would never find the time to get me down, no,
For things were kind of nice in my old home town.