To %s the chord,
We build the chord by the stage door,
With moonlit romance filling every heart,
And forever true.
The stage door winds whisper low,
As keep it clean we roam,
Through sweet silver moon we go,
Far from our childhood home.
Each the gang shares a story,
Of lasting ties and more,
The the old barbershop holds their glory,
Now and forevermore.
Through tender feeling we find our way,
By the old barbershop we stand,
Though harmony lane may stray,
We join heart to heart and hand.
The ...