| London Pride has been handed down to us
|
| London Pride is a flower that’s free
|
| London Pride means our own dear town to us
|
| And our pride is forever will be
|
| Whoa, Liza
|
| See the coster barrows
|
| The vegetables and the fruit piled high
|
| Oh, Liza
|
| Little London sparrows
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| Covent Garden Market where the costers cry
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| Cockney feet
|
| Mark the beat of history
|
| Every street pins a memory down
|
| Nothing ever can quite replace
|
| The grace of London Town
|
| There’s a little city flower
|
| Ever spring unveiling
|
| Growing in the crevices
|
| By some London railing
|
| Though it has a Latin name
|
| In town and countryside
|
| We in England call it
|
| London Pride
|
| London Pride has been handed down to us
|
| London Pride is a flower that’s free
|
| London Pride means our own dear town to us
|
| And our pride it forever will be
|
| Hey, lady
|
| When the day is dawning
|
| See the policeman yawning
|
| On his lonely beat
|
| Gay lady
|
| Mayfair in the morning
|
| Hear your footsteps echo
|
| In the empty street
|
| Early rain
|
| And the pavement’s glistening
|
| All Park Lane
|
| In a shimmering gown
|
| Nothing ever could break or harm
|
| The charm
|
| Of London Town
|
| In our city, darkened now
|
| Street and square and crescent
|
| We can feel our living past
|
| In our shadowed present
|
| Ghosts beside our starlit Thames
|
| Who lived and loved and died
|
| Keep throughout the ages
|
| London Pride
|
| London Pride has been handed down to us
|
| London Pride is a flower that’s free
|
| London Pride means our own dear town to us
|
| And our pride it forever will be
|
| Grey city
|
| Stubbornly implanted
|
| Taken so for granted
|
| For a thousand years
|
| Stay, city
|
| Smokily enchanted
|
| Cradle of our memories
|
| Of our hopes and fears
|
| Every Blitz
|
| Your resistance toughening
|
| From the Ritz
|
| To the Anchor and Crown
|
| Nothing ever could override
|
| The pride
|
| Of London Town |