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