A little bit of this, a little bit of that A pot, a pan, a broom, a hat
Someone should have set a match to this place years ago A bench, a tree So, what's a stove? Or a house? People who pass through Anatevka don't even know they've been here A stick of wood A piece of cloth
What do we leave? Nothing much Only Anatevka
Anatevka, Anatevka Underfed, overworked Anatevka Where else could Sabbath be so sweet? Anatevka, Anatevka Intimate, obstinate Anatevka, Where I know everyone I meet
Soon I'll be a stranger in a strange new place, Searching for an old familiar face From Anatevka
I belong in Anatevka, Tumble-down, work-a-day Anatevka Dear little village, little town of mine