Revisited: Next we have the "Dear Hearts And Gentle Peoples" school Of songwriting, in which the singer tells you that, no matter How much sin and vice and crime go on where he comes from, It's still the best place in the world because it's home, You know. Sort of gets you. This example is called "My Home Town." 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 We're recording tonight so I have to leave this line out 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 Because 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