The gable wall is all that's left now,
The old thatched cottage has fallen down,
And I dry my eyes as I fondly remember,
The days of long ago when I was young.

In my father's house we were poor but rich in love,
No TV but music we had plenty of,
And my mother hummed those melodies and we all sang along,
In my father's house, when I was young.

Now comes the time when I am older,
And my own children are reared and gone,
I wonder then will they fondly remember,
The days of long ago when they were young.

In my father's house, his smile would greet you at the door,
A friendly word, weak travellers there was welcome for,
And at night time neighbours rambled in, might stay till twelve or one.
In my father's house, when I was young.

The years have passed and times are changing,
The rambling house has almost gone,
But still I hear the laughter of children,
Just like long ago when I was young.

In my father's house we were poor but rich in love,
No TV but good times there were plenty of,
And we made the best of what we had, and we sang a happy song,
In my father's house, when we were young.

And we made the best of what we had, and we sang a happy song,
In my father's house, when we were young,
Yes, in my father's house, when we were young.