Written by Robbie Smith
The storekeeper’s son was a kindly young man,
He dreamed many dreams and he planned many plans
But from sun-up ’til dusk he would stand on his feet
In a curio shop on Darby Street
He could have gone far so the townspeople said
But he chose to live simply and sheltered instead
And he stayed where he was on the chance he might meet
A pretty young girl from Darby Street
From Darby Street
And sometimes we’d see him along the canal
On damp winter mornings when time would allow
And he’d quick tip his hat and smile with his eyes
A smile that passed quickly as we passed him by
And when in the night he would pause to reflect
He was glad he had earned his father’s respect
But somehow his life was a song incomplete
That could never be sung on Darby Street
On Darby Street
And sometimes we’d see him along the canal
On damp winter evenings when time would allow
And he’d quick tip his hat and smile with his eyes
A smile that passed quickly as we passed him by
And one day the curtains were drawn on his door
The windows were barred from ceiling to floor
And somehow we sensed ‘twas the last time we’d meet
The storekeeper’s son from Darby Street