This Place Lyrics
| Song | This Place |
| Artist | Little River Band |
| Album | One Night In Mississippi |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Busted doors and broken women hang out in the street | |
| Faces unfamiliar turn to stare and not to greet | |
| And the old café door’s permanently closed, no more cappuccino brewing | |
| There’s a pair of eyes peering through the afterglow | |
| Wondering what the hell | |
| I’m doin’ | |
| This place used to be my home | |
| This town | |
| I used to call my own | |
| Over the years nothin’ and no one’s grown | |
| In this place, | |
| I used to call my home | |
| The old tree on the hill’s still standin’ | |
| Where my baby and | |
| I used to lay down | |
| She taught me about livin’, lovin’ and life | |
| My first and only love from this town | |
| And the plain old houses seem like long lost friends | |
| But most have been torn down | |
| I guess they tried to make way for some kinda progress | |
| So hard to find in this town | |
| This place used to be my home | |
| This town | |
| I used to call my own | |
| Over the years nothin’ and nobody’s grown | |
| In this place, | |
| I used to call my home | |
| Fields of green and lazy skies | |
| Golden memories just pass me by | |
| When you go back, well, it’s never the same | |
| I know it’s true | |
| But I’m still hooked on you … and this place | |
| The old café door’s permanently closed, no more cappuccino brewing | |
| There’s a pair of eyes peering through the afterglow | |
| Wonderin’ what the hell | |
| I’m doin’ | |
| This place used to be my home | |
| This town | |
| I used to call my own | |
| Over the years nothin’ and no one’s grown | |
| In this place … | |
| This place used to be my home | |
| This town | |
| I used to call my own | |
| Over the years nothin’ and no one’s grown | |
| In this place, | |
| I used to call my home |
| Busted doors and broken women hang out in the street | |
| Faces unfamiliar turn to stare and not to greet | |
| And the old cafe door' s permanently closed, no more cappuccino brewing | |
| There' s a pair of eyes peering through the afterglow | |
| Wondering what the hell | |
| I' m doin' | |
| This place used to be my home | |
| This town | |
| I used to call my own | |
| Over the years nothin' and no one' s grown | |
| In this place, | |
| I used to call my home | |
| The old tree on the hill' s still standin' | |
| Where my baby and | |
| I used to lay down | |
| She taught me about livin', lovin' and life | |
| My first and only love from this town | |
| And the plain old houses seem like long lost friends | |
| But most have been torn down | |
| I guess they tried to make way for some kinda progress | |
| So hard to find in this town | |
| This place used to be my home | |
| This town | |
| I used to call my own | |
| Over the years nothin' and nobody' s grown | |
| In this place, | |
| I used to call my home | |
| Fields of green and lazy skies | |
| Golden memories just pass me by | |
| When you go back, well, it' s never the same | |
| I know it' s true | |
| But I' m still hooked on you and this place | |
| The old cafe door' s permanently closed, no more cappuccino brewing | |
| There' s a pair of eyes peering through the afterglow | |
| Wonderin' what the hell | |
| I' m doin' | |
| This place used to be my home | |
| This town | |
| I used to call my own | |
| Over the years nothin' and no one' s grown | |
| In this place | |
| This place used to be my home | |
| This town | |
| I used to call my own | |
| Over the years nothin' and no one' s grown | |
| In this place, | |
| I used to call my home |
| Busted doors and broken women hang out in the street | |
| Faces unfamiliar turn to stare and not to greet | |
| And the old café door' s permanently closed, no more cappuccino brewing | |
| There' s a pair of eyes peering through the afterglow | |
| Wondering what the hell | |
| I' m doin' | |
| This place used to be my home | |
| This town | |
| I used to call my own | |
| Over the years nothin' and no one' s grown | |
| In this place, | |
| I used to call my home | |
| The old tree on the hill' s still standin' | |
| Where my baby and | |
| I used to lay down | |
| She taught me about livin', lovin' and life | |
| My first and only love from this town | |
| And the plain old houses seem like long lost friends | |
| But most have been torn down | |
| I guess they tried to make way for some kinda progress | |
| So hard to find in this town | |
| This place used to be my home | |
| This town | |
| I used to call my own | |
| Over the years nothin' and nobody' s grown | |
| In this place, | |
| I used to call my home | |
| Fields of green and lazy skies | |
| Golden memories just pass me by | |
| When you go back, well, it' s never the same | |
| I know it' s true | |
| But I' m still hooked on you and this place | |
| The old café door' s permanently closed, no more cappuccino brewing | |
| There' s a pair of eyes peering through the afterglow | |
| Wonderin' what the hell | |
| I' m doin' | |
| This place used to be my home | |
| This town | |
| I used to call my own | |
| Over the years nothin' and no one' s grown | |
| In this place | |
| This place used to be my home | |
| This town | |
| I used to call my own | |
| Over the years nothin' and no one' s grown | |
| In this place, | |
| I used to call my home |
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