All the Little Things

She smiled and she said she was leaving With a trace of a tear in her eye Not the smile of a Cheshire Like the day that I met her More the grin of a child when they lie I get up with the sun in the morning Put a little coffee in a pot Though this day is grey and cold I will do what I am told Though this day is grey and cold And all the little things Seem to be much bigger than they are Some days I remember that feeling And hold on the best I can I can still taste all the freedom On the backstreets of Wheaton That's where little boys became men And all the little things Seem to be much bigger than they are Some days I remember that feeling And hold on the best I can I can still taste all the freedom On the backstreets of Wheaton Some days I remember that feeling And hold on the best I can I can still taste all the freedom On the backstreets of Wheaton On the backstreets of Wheaton On the backstreets of Wheaton On the backstreets of Wheaton