Wherever We Wander
The Local Folk Agree,
I Love You And - You,
You Seem To Like Me.
Heading Back To Old Familiar Places,
Places Where The Cobwebs Blow Away
I Can Forget The Airs And Graces
Terpsichory . . . . . . .
You'll Never Be Crowned By
The Aristocracy,
To Their Delight, You'd Merely Invite
Them In For A Cup Of Tea . . . . And
I Love You And - You
You Seem To Like
You Seem To Like
You Seem To Like
Me.