Songtext:
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
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
