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THOSE GOOD OLD DAYS BACK HOME (Words by Joe McCarthy / Music by Jimmie Monaco, 1916) I left my sweetheart in old New Hampshire, waving to my train, I sort of reckoned that old New Hampshire would never see me again; I got "kinder" tired of my home town, had a lot of silly dreams, mighty disappointed looking 'round, this life ain't what it seems. My heart is sighing now for the good old days back home, I'm crying now, I was foolish kid to roam, you could live around the city years or more, and never get acquainted with the folks next door. Way back home you rise at dawning, you meet a stranger and he'll say "Good Mornin'," I'm longing now for the fields, I used to plow, I want to see the bumble bees a buzzin' 'round the comb. (I've been a drone) and in the homestead on the hill, I wonder if they're waiting still, Oh, my heart is sighing, and I'm just dying for the good old days back home. Maple syrup flowing from the shady maple trees, hear the rooster crowing, hear the humming of the bees, see the corn a waving in the fields of new mown hay, that is why I'm craving, why I'm leaving here today. My heart is sighing now for the good old days back home, I'm crying now, I was foolish kid to roam, you could live around the city years or more, and never even know the folks that live next door. Way back home you rise at dawning, you meet a stranger and he'll say "Good Mornin'," I'm sighing now for the fields, I used to plow, I want to see the bumble bees a buzzin' 'round the comb. (I've been a drone) I want to ride for miles, I'm through with butter cakes and Childs, Oh, my heart is sighing, and I'm just dying for the good old days back home.

    





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