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I come into the park each day
To watch the children as they play
And see they don't go near the water banks
Although it never was too hard
To flirt with soldiers of the guard
I find it simpler still to meet the Yanks
This little Hyde Park bench
Is sometimes like a trench
The Poles, the Czechs, the Greeks
Auditioning their techniques
First I embrace them, then I place them
On an honor roll
And the Yanks always rate a spot
On my Gallup Poll
What does an English girl
Think of a Yank?
Oh, he's a doll
And just as solid as a tank
What does an English girl
Think of his looks?
And when he says "What's cookin'?"
Does she know what cooks?
She just adores his Southern drawl
Can't resist his "Hiya, all!"
He says, "Evenin', Ma'am"
She says, "Evenin', Sam"
Like she's from Alabam-y
What does an English girl
Think of his jive?
And when a band is on the stand
Well, man alive!
He knows from nothin'
He starts rug-cuttin'
And throws a hip or two
Do we hit back?
Of course we do
Written by: Paul Dresser

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