Talk a-bout the Cake-Walk - just a bloomin' fake walk
Wot the folk did up-on the plan-tee-ation.
Come the Sur-rey side, boys, keep your peepers wide, boys.
The Lambeth Walk'll beat cre-a-tion.
Costers won't you come, where the kippers hum
And oh! The pearlies, whoa, the pearlies take your breaf away
Gals so light and gay.
Down the old 'lime chalk'.
Fevvers in their 'ats, all a-shout-in' rats.
And oh! the 'round guys! "Whoa! the round guys!"
Kick-in' up a dust, proud e-nough to bust
Is the style of the Lambeth Walk.

Chorus: Talk a-bout the Cake Walk,
Why the Lambeth Walk 'ud knock it all to smithereens
It ain't a bloomin' fake walk,
It's the same as wot we use when out a-sellin' greens.
And we don't want no banjoes, burned cork or any fake,
The Lambeth Walk, there ain't no talk, that walk takes the cake.

If you want a sing-song, just a merry ding-dong,
Come and 'ear us 'owl at our 'armonie meeting;
Talk of balmy breezes wafting through the treeses
The fried-fish shop 'ull want some beating.
Oh! the middle bits gives the costers fits,
And oh! the 'taters! fish and 'taters!
On the cellar flaps all the gals and chaps
Dance as light as cork.
Never mind the 'tecs, arms around yer necks,
Pewters in yer 'and, orgin for yer band-
Is the style of the Lambeth Walk.


See us out at Whitsun - got the latest fits on,
'Roundmys' lavender and wilet frocks cut away;
Chaps and gals a-cuddlin', kissin' and a-fuddlin',
Our waggynette's a trifle 'orsey.
Cornet on the box, giving of it socks,
And oh, the moisture! pints of moisture
We can put away in a single day,
And don't it make yer talk.
Chingford we get out, chuck ourselves about-
It's over 'Liza! over Liza!
All been in the sun, rollin' 'ome at one
Is the style of the Lambeth Walk.


Written and composed by E.W. Rogers - 1899
Performed by Alec Hurley (1871-1913)
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