Paroles de Anatevka

A little bit of this, a little bit of that A pot, a pan, a broom, a hat Someone should have set a match to this place years ago A bench, a tree So, what's a stove? Or a house? People who pass through Anatevka don't even know they've been here A stick of wood. A piece of cloth What do we leave? Nothing much Only Anatevka Anatevka, Anatevka Underfed, overworked Anatevka Where else could Sabbath be so sweet? Anatevka, Anatevka Intimate, obstinate Anatevka Where I know everyone I meet Soon I'll be a stranger in a strange new place Searching for an old familiar face >From Anatevka I belong in Anatevka Tumble-down, work-a-day Anatevka Dear little village, little town of mine