text: Burning up your hometown streets could set a fire
  For the world to catch
  Burn it up, no need to reconcile
  Come and see me, Im your west end
  Perfect stranger, in America
  Lady on that states so full of style
  Stand up, turn around, beat it out
  You gotta sound, Joe
  Swing low and now I know
  Its hard to let a brother go, Joe
  The many boots that you have laced could tell a story
  Comin night and day
  No one said that you would need a crowd
  The many lands that you have graced could make a case that
  There is no better make
  And now I only see your face in clouds
  Stand up, turn around, beat it out
  You gotta sound, Joe
  Swing low and now I know
  Its hard to let a brother go, Joe
  Tell me so
  Do you know
  Does it show
  When Im low
  And then again, when I feel your love from far away
  I think of yesterday
  I see a family we know how to smile
  There comes a time when you must rock another world and
  We will get along
  There comes a time when we will walk that mile
  Stand up, turn around, beat it out
  You gotta sound, Joe
  Swing low and now I know
  Its hard to let a brother go, Joe