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.