Life in the street is the same every day Life in the street is a marvelous play Ladies and lovers and bankers and bums Hurry along while the big city hums People are frowning while others are gay Music tumbling from every café There's all of the wonder of life and love Out in the street with the blue sky above
There in the crowd one little man Hurries along upon his way Nobody much, and turning gray Just one little man But he has a girl He's still a man... He has a young and lovely girl Maybe she does demand too much But who wouldn't pay to feel her touch Who wouldn't pay, especially a man Who's turning gray...
He has no children, no home and no wife He lives a kind of the Saturday life Saturday evening he runs up the stairs Launches his face in her deep golden hair Why should he care if he pays for her charms He can recapture his youth in her arms And Saturday night he can live once more Saturday night he can live just once more...
Then one awful day he climbs the stairs Picks up a note beneath her door What should he tear it open for He knows what he'll find Poor little man, he's left behind... She's gone away and he's alone She never even said goodbye Where does a fellow go to cry Where does he cry?... Out in the street, beneath the sky...
Life in the street is the same every day Life in the street is a marvelous play Ladies and lovers and bankers and bums Hurry along while the big city hums People are frowning while others are gay Music is tumbling from every café And there with the beautiful sky above...