I am not such a clever one about the latest fads
I admit I was never one adored by local lads
Not that I ever try to be saint
I'm the type that they classify as quaint
Quaint that they mother you, quaint that they brother you
Must be another you, I like the other you
I'm old fashioned, I love the moonlight
I love the old fashioned things
The sound of rain upon a window pane
The starry song that April sings
This year's fancies are passing fancies
But sighing sighs, holding hands these my heart understands
I'm old fashioned, but I don't mind it
That's how I want to be
As long as you agree to stay old fashioned with me
