I never really did like malt biscuits all that much
you can have them with milk,
or on their own
With a scraping of butter they’re not so bad,
but I think they’re boring,
I don’t like them as such.
The lady down our street,
she was ever so nice
My sister and I, we visited her house one day
She sat us down at her table beside the window
and we supped like princesses on cakes,
so elegantly iced.
We were too young for school as yet
but like royalty we drank from fine bone china cups
We sat graciously at her table
It was beautifully laid
I was too young to thank her
This I regret.
we felt so very refined
She was a kind and gentle lady, ever so mild
Never before had we eaten such fine treats
It was a tea party we’d remember always.
She was a lady more elegant than the finest of lace
We sat at her table and happily sipped the hour away
We felt at home, though there was not a malt biscuit in sight.
© Vera Lynne