Now I was born a Cockney, down Whitechapel way somewhere
But all at once I found myself a multimillionaire
An uncle out in Africa was in the bullion line
He kindly kicked the bucket and I found the oof was mine
The day I came into the brass the thought occurred to me
I'll go and live up in the West now I've the L.S.D.
I've took a back seat long enough, but now I've cash to spare
I'll set the Thames in blazes as the Cockney Millionaire.

Chorus: And all the swells in Mayfair say I put them in the shade
I set the taste in blazers and my necktie's tailor made
A toff won't wear a 'igh 'at now, a collar, or a vest
He likes to be the same as me -
That's a little bit of East up West.

Of course I'm living in Park Lane - at first it made me smile
To get fried fish or saveloys you had to walk a mile
But now I've built some little shops right in the middle - straight
So now the toffs can get their faggots ev'ry night at eight
On Sunday with my latest pals, the markisses and earls
I stroll out to the barber's and we chy-ike all the girls
We spin a coin up as we go for pots of mild and old
And I smoke ten-shilling 'bacca in a short clay made of gold.

Chorus: To whistle on your fingers now in Bond Street is the thing
We've formed a concertina band to serenade the King
For pints of winkles in Pall Mall the ladies make request
And when they're dry some beer they buy -
That's a little bit of East up West.

Now since I joined the Coaching Club becos they're stunning blokes
We all drive round the Serpentine behind four spanking mokes
I've made a pal of Lipton and he's going halves with me
To give a cup for skittles, and we'll whack Amerikee
I've just been to a Drawing-Room among the scrumptious gells
It's a kind of free-and-easy at the Palace for the swells.
The King he asked me for a fag, quite affable I thought
And says to me, 'What cheer, old pal,
I'm glad you've come to Court.'

Chorus: And now they talk in back slang, do the Aristocracee
They all wear one another's 'ats when out upon a spree
And if they hear a Chorus:song they chuck it off their chest
No beastly pride or put-on-side -
That's a little bit of East up West.

I've changed the London fashions, and the papers make a noise
About my velvet fustian and my satin corduroys
I've taught them Coddam at the clubs instead of Bridge and Nap
And at the Garden Parties now they dance the Cellar Flap
I've bought up Covent Garden 'cos the opera's all right
And it's shirt-sleeves in the boxes and two houses every night
And tied in spotted handkerchiefs our linnets there we bring
To show the stuck-up singers 'tisn't only them as sing.

Chorus: And all the swells to 'Ampstead go when they want a change of air
And in St James's Park today they're 'olding Barnet Fair
There's cockshies in the 'Orseguards now,
And swings and all the rest
And ladies dress so they won't catch cold -
That's a little bit of East up West.
Written and composed by Edgar Bateman & E. Denham Harrison - 1901
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