(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.