All the Little Things

She smiled and she said she was leaving

With a trace of a tear in her eye

Not the smile of a Cheshire

Like the day that I met her

More the grin of a child when they lie

I get up with the sun in the morning

Put a little coffee in a pot

Though this day is grey and cold

I will do what I am told

Though this day is grey and cold

And all the little things

Seem to be much bigger than they are

Some days I remember that feeling

And hold on the best I can

I can still taste all the freedom

On the backstreets of Wheaton

That's where little boys became men

And all the little things

Seem to be much bigger than they are

Some days I remember that feeling

And hold on the best I can

I can still taste all the freedom

On the backstreets of Wheaton

Some days I remember that feeling

And hold on the best I can

I can still taste all the freedom

On the backstreets of Wheaton

On the backstreets of Wheaton

On the backstreets of Wheaton

On the backstreets of Wheaton