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Written by Don Gibson.
I still live on the same street,that we lived on.
The same old street,where memories were made on.
I shouldn¡¯t stay,why don¡¯t I go?.
Each day hurts a little more.
It won¡¯t be the same street anymore, since you¡¯ve gone.
It won¡¯t be the same street anymore.
Each day I walk alone,where we once walked before.
See all familiar places, where we talked before.
But I can¡¯t run,from memories.
They¡¯re mine and they belong to me.
It won¡¯t be the same street anymore.since you¡¯ve gone.
It won¡¯t be the same street anymore.
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