Closed are her doors on me, I must not see her —
Friend of my bosom, thou more than a brother,
Drinking late, sitting late, with my bosom cronies,
In my days of childhood, in my joyful school-days,
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
Left him, to muse on the old familiar faces.
Like an ingrate, I left my friend abruptly;
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
How some they have died, and some they have left me,
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
And some are taken from me; all are departed;
Seeking to find the old familiar faces.
All, all are gone, the old familiar faces.
Why wert not thou born in my father's dwelling?
Earth seemed a desert I was bound to traverse,
I have had playmates, I have had companions,
I have a friend, a kinder friend has no man;
Ghost-like, I paced round the haunts of my childhood.
I loved a love once, fairest among women;
I have been laughing, I have been carousing,
So might we talk of the old familiar faces —