| Early each day to the steps of Saint Paul’s
|
| The little old bird woman comes
|
| In her own special way to the people she call
|
| «Come, buy my bags full of crumbs;
|
| Come feed the little birds
|
| Show them you care
|
| And you’ll be glad if you do
|
| Their young ones are hungry
|
| Their nests are so bare
|
| All it takes is tuppence from you
|
| Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
|
| Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag
|
| Feed the birds,» that’s what she cries
|
| While overhead, her birds fill the skies
|
| All around the cathedral the saints and apostles
|
| Look down as she sells her wares
|
| Although you can’t see it
|
| You know they are smiling
|
| Each time someone shows that he cares
|
| Though her words are simple and few
|
| Listen, listen, she’s calling to you
|
| «Feed the birds, tuppence a bag
|
| Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag» |