#02563
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Some things still haunt my memory,
Like days of university,
I think of things away back then,
When I hear some old love song;
Or the welcome at Old Patty's Knee,
When all the lights please say come in;
What I'd give to live again in old St. John's.
I feel so all alone when I think of days at home,
And time erases every trace of wrong;
Where the Narrows sits like a window pane,
The old street splits it in the rain;
What I'd give to live again in old St. John's.
My thoughts fly swifter than a dove,
Bringing back the laughs of love,
Remembering all the little bars and all the Irish songs;
When the nights were long and the winters cold,
And always a story to be told;
Better then to me than gold was old St. John's.
I feel so all alone when I think of days at home,
And time erases every trace of wrong;
Where the Narrows sits like a window pane,
The old street splits it in the rain;
What I'd give to live again in old St. John's.
It's the oldest city still today,
In all of North Amerikay;
The youngest city in a world,
Of so much crime and wrong,
Where we knew each other door to door,
To idle by the liquor store;
What I'd give to live once more in old St. John's.
I feel so all alone when I think of days at home,
And time erases every trace of wrong;
Where the Narrows sits like a window pane,
The old street splits it in the rain,
What I'd give to live again in old St. John's.
Oh, what I'd give to live again in old St. John's.