Her shoulder length hair it is wavy and brown
The one known as the Rose of old Mortlake Town
And with a lovely smile and warmth in her hello
And dark blue eyes blue as the late Autumn sloe,
In Mortlake she first saw the bright lamp of day
And in Mortlake she live but there she will not stay
The wanderlust in her for places elsewhere
She wants to see more of the big World out there,
Her best years are ahead of her she is eighteen
And so much of the big World out there to be seen
She dreams of big Cities far distant from home
Such as London and New York and Paris and Rome
A beautiful young woman in beautiful clothes
She is known in Mortlake as the Mortlake Rose.
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