London Lyrics - Singles - Steeleye Span

There's your lords and ladies fine, 

Riding in a coach and six, 

Nothing to drink but claret wine, 

Talking politicks. 

London is a dainty place, 

A great and gallant city! 

All the streets are paved with gold, 

And all the folks are witty. 

There's your beaux with powder'd clothes, 

Bedaub'd from head to chin, 

Their pocket-holes adorned with gold, 

but not one sou within. 

There's your lords and ladies fine, 

Riding in a coach and six, 

Nothing to drink but claret wine, 

Talking politicks. 

There your English actor goes 

With many a hungry belly; 

While heaps of gold are forc'd, God wot, 

on Signor Farinelli. 

There's your lords and ladies fine, 

Riding in a coach and six, 

Nothing to drink but claret wine, 

Talking politicks. 

London is a dainty place, 

A great and gallant city! 

All the streets are paved with gold, 

All the folks are witty. 

There's your dames with dainty frames, 

Skins as white as milk; 

Dressed every day in garments gay, 

Of satin and of silk. 

London is a dainty place.