Sophisticated folks may frown,
May call such people hicks,
And insist a little town
Is backward in the sticks.
But I’d rather be a simple hick
For all the world to see
Than a melancholy city dweller
Even lucky to see a tree.

I like a little country town
When springtime breezes fly,
And find it just as pleasant
When the summer sun is high.
I like it in the autumn
When wooded hillsides glow,
And receive a thrill in winter,
When the ground is white with snow.

You may have the city if you wish
With its bustle and its noise,
But you’ll find it’s not a proper place
To bring up girls and boys.
And even those who win success
And earn a broad renown,
Quite often give as their address
Some little country town.

I know my little country town,
I know its streets and alleys,
I know its people young and old,
Its Henries and its Sallys,
I think of it as best of all,
And my opinion never varies,
The town I’m proud to call my home,
Of course I mean St. Marys!