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