The Hustling, Bustling, Busy Streets of Harlem
Where I was born and reared in poverty
The tenement house where I lived
Was old and shabby and mighty run down
But I got to get away from its sweet embrace
Harlem, I love you so
But there's one more thing I want you to know
I'll miss the game of stickball that the children play
As they run and romp and scamper right in old Harlem's way
I'll miss the peddler's cry, stop that boy
He stole an apple from my car
But I don't wanna, no, no
Leave this place far behind me
But if I don't, all my hopes and dreams will die
Harlem, I love you so
