For every man thereís one way

And each man takes his own way:

The high road or the low road or the road that runs between,

The broad road or the narrow,

The way of joy or sorrow,

The well-trod path or the path thatís evergreen.



And I can see clearly

That the only way for me

Is the little road that runs down by the stream

Where primroses bloom early

And the lass I love so dearly

Walks beside me in the bye-way of my dreams.


When I was young and sprightly

I thought Iíd travel lightly

By the wide freeway that runs straight to the town.

Since I fell in step with Sally

I feel more inclined to dally,

For the gentle pace of loving slowed me down.



And I can see clearly etc


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