Down across from the Cresswell Hotel 
Harry sits there polishing his bells and dinky toys 
Oh, Harry and the boys 

On slow Sunday afternoons 
One could hear a tune rise from the alley way 
As the church goers spilled out on the steps 
And say, "Must be Harry and the boys 
Still going strong from Saturday" 

Now, it seemed like Harry went to Heaven 
Oh, the people got smiles on their face 
Where they can't be replayed any other way 

Birds sing, cows ‘low 
'Cause wind stirs it up, you know 
Some folks do well pushing numbers 
Some folks do well playing a tune 

Echoes of yesterday, rising to the clouds they say 
Falling on innocent ears recalling wilder years 

[Incomprehensible] still cooking 
But nobody comes in to start a soup 
And [Incomprehensible] speeches too 
Some folks try and sing out Harry's tune 
Oh but it's still his tune, how do you get there? 

Well, it seems like Harry went to Heaven