When the evening shadows gather,
  And the day is past and gone;
And we’re looking ‘cross Time’s river
  While the world is moving on.
Nothing then, will so much cheer us
  Matters not, if up or down,
As our own live County Papers
  Coming from our own Home Town.

Yes—coming—from our own Home Town,
  Coming from our own home town.
These live papers always cheer us
  Coming from our own home town.

For they tell us ’bout our people,
  ’Bout the ones we like to know;
Where they chance to spend their Sundays,
If not home, tell where they go.
And they’re sure to keep us posted.
  Who is up and who is down;
This is why we get the Papers
  Coming from our own home town.

Yes, Coming—from our own Home Town,
  Coming from our own home town.
This is why we get the papers
  Coming from our own home town.

Still, we like to read the dailies,
  And the weekly papers, too;
And at times—the dear old Bible,
  And the latest books—’tis true.
But, then, when we want new reading
  While we’re resting—sitting down
We, just go and get the papers
Coming from our own home town.

Yes coming—from our own Home Town.
  Coming from our own home town.
We just go and get the papers
  Coming from our own home town.