The Old Woman at the Flower Show
Come inside the swinging gate
And pay your pennies for the Fête,
Where once I strolled with all the rest
In my sash and Sunday best.
Dust and ash the eyes I sought,
Where I strolled and strayed and sat,
And the rose my mother bought
To stick inside my shady hat,
His blue eyes and my bright sash,
And pay your pennies for the Fête,
Where once I strolled with all the rest
In my sash and Sunday best.
Dust and ash the eyes I sought,
Where I strolled and strayed and sat,
And the rose my mother bought
To stick inside my shady hat,
His blue eyes and my bright sash,
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