| Covered with dust and forgotten,
|
| Like the face upon the wall.
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| The one souvenir of the days gone by,
|
| I treasure most of all:
|
| (refrain)
|
| There’s an old spinning wheel in the parlor,
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| Spinning dreams of the long, long ago.
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| Spinning dreams of an old fashioned garden,
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| And a maid with her old fashioned beau,
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| Sometimes it seems that I can hear her in the twilight
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| At the organ softly singing «Old Black Joe.»
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| There’s an old spinning wheel in the parlor,
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| Spinning dreams of the long, long a go.
|
| (verse)
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| Turn back the years of my childhood
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| As you turn, old spinning wheel.
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| Just show me a lane with a barefoot boy,
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| As shadows softly steal:
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| (repeat refrain) |