In the streets of old Paris
Grows a man who used to be
Rich and famous in his day
Because of songs that he would play.
Now he walks from street to street,
Rags for shoes upon his feet,
But the words that he wrote down
Still get played from town to town.
I can hear the song you're singing,
Will it ever die?
Though you're old and they don't know you
When you pass them by.
Still the songs you wrote are bringing
Joy to one and all.
You hear them in the streets and squares
And subways and up the stairs,
Your melodies will always be
A happy lasting memory.
So as you retire to bed,
Close your eyes and rest your head,
You can hear the sound of feet
On the pavement in the street.
When he rests, we never know,
He'll just sing a song and go,
Throw a penny, if you care,
To the old man singing there.
I can hear the song you're singing,
Will it ever die?
Though you're old and they don't know you
When you pass them by.
Still, the songs you wrote are bringing
Joy to one and all.
You hear them in the streets and squares
And subways and up the stairs,
Your melodies will always be
A happy lasting memory.
I can hear the song you're singing,
Will it ever die?
I can hear the song you're singing,
Will it ever die?