Life in the street is the same every dayLife in the street is a marvelous playLadies and lovers and bankers and bumsHurry along while the big city humsPeople are frowning while others are gayMusic tumbling from every caféThereâs all of the wonder of life and loveOut in the street with the blue sky aboveThere in the crowd one little manHurries along upon his wayNobody much, and turning grayJust one little manBut he has a girlHeâs still a manâ¦He has a young and lovely girlMaybe she does demand too muchBut who wouldnât pay to feel her touchWho wouldnât pay, especially a manWhoâs turning grayâ¦He has no children, no home and no wifeHe lives a kind of the Saturday lifeSaturday evening he runs up the stairsLaunches his face in her deep golden hairWhy should he care if he pays for her charmsHe can recapture his youth in her armsAnd Saturday night he can live once moreSaturday night he can live just once moreâ¦Then one awful day he climbs the stairsPicks up a note beneath her doorWhat should he tear it open forHe knows what heâll findPoor little man, heâs left behindâ¦Sheâs gone away and heâs aloneShe never even said goodbyeWhere does a fellow go to cryWhere does he cry?…Out in the street, beneath the skyâ¦Life in the street is the same every dayLife in the street is a marvelous playLadies and lovers and bankers and bumsHurry along while the big city humsPeople are frowning while others are gayMusic is tumbling from every caféAnd there with the beautiful sky aboveâ¦