This old house 
Looks just the way it was 
Just a tumbledown of pine and river stone 
But it’s only just a shadow of the place you knew before 
Because Bob’s just not your uncle anymore 

Winter’s here 
And the day don’t last too long 
Barely thimbles full of sunshine to go on 
There’s an ocean full of midnight rolling right up to the door 
I guess Bob’s just not your uncle anymore

And I say it without pride and without shame 
That the dopey Irish Setter dog — 
Regan’s still his name 
Well he looks right glad to see you 
But he might not want to be you 
Even though he loves you madly from before 
Before Bob was not your uncle anymore 

Good old games 
Like they play them back in town 
Where the wayward daughter’s [bad word] strong and pure 
You might feel like you’re a winner but you never know for sure 
Now that Bob’s just not your uncle anymore 

And so we see 
You can find your way back home 
And that maybe when you get there 
There’s a lock on every door 
Now you know for certain 
What the big wide world is good for 
And that Bob’s just not your uncle anymore 
 
Vocals, bass: Walter Becker  [bad word]  Keith Carlock 
Guitar: Jon Herington 
Keyboards: Ted Baker 
Piano: Jim Beard 
Percussion: Gordon Gottlieb 
Background vocals: Carolyn Leonhart-Escoffery