The narrator's warm memories conceal grotesque stories about the people he grew up around. This is fictional dark satire, including violence and dated derogatory language. The author supplies a four-page score rather than a separate lyric sheet. This reading follows its upper lyric row, repeats with the lower row, then continues into the final coda. The written humming cue is retained without inventing words. Line breaks and the seven section titles are editorial reading aids; spoken introductions from recordings are not included.
I really have a yen
To go back once again,
Back to the place where no-one wears a frown,
To see once more those super-special just plain folks
In my home town.
No fellow could ignore
The little girl next door,
She sure looked sweet in her first evening gown.
Now there's a charge for what she used to give for free
In my home town.
I remember Dan, the druggist on the corner,
'E was never mean or ornery,
He was swell.
He killed his mother-in-law and ground her up real well,
And sprinkled just a bit
Over each banana split.
The guy that taught us math,
Who never took a bath,
Acquired a certain measure of renown,
And after school he sold the most amazing pictures
In my home town.
That fellow was no fool
Who taught our Sunday School,
And neither was our kindly Parson Brown.
(Hum)
In my home town.
I remember Sam, he was the village idiot
And though it seems a pity, it was so.
He loved to burn down houses just to watch the glow,
And nothing could be done
'Cause he was the mayor's son.
The guy that took a knife
And monogrammed his wife,
Then dropped her in the pond and watched her drown.
Oh, yes indeed, the people there are just plain folks
In my home town.