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