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Empty paper bags from bread and butter |
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Crumpled cartons void of cigarettes |
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Endlessly they drift towards the gutter |
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Walking down this road I can't forget |
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In the park I used to pick the flowers |
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And give mother her birthday bouquet |
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In this old town I know my way |
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This good old town of childhood days |
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Though this old town has seen a change |
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In this old town I don't feel strange |
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Quite nearby there used to be a lamplight |
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By a lover's seat where young girls hoped |
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That someday they'd find a shining love-light |
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My first love turned out to be a joke |
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All at once I felt the urge to wonder |
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Came the dawn and I was far from home |
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But this old town when I'm alone |
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Is still the town that I call home |
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Though this old town has seen a change, |
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In this old town I don't feel strange |
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Standing, waiting in some railway station |
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Who said it's a gateway to the world? |
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When I reached my latest destination |
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Then I knew the whole trip was absurd |
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Not until some lonely nights of sorrow |
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Did I know that I'd come back to stay |
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In this old town I know my way |
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This good old town of childhood days |
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Though this old town has seen a change |
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In this old town I don't feel strange |
