The Perfumes of Harrogate

When I'm cooped up in London's great city,
With its routine of hurry and rush,
It seems such a wonderful pity
I can't get away from the crush;
It's Yorkshire that always is calling,
It urges me – " Rise up – depart,"
And I find melancholy is falling,
And longing is filling my heart.

Refrain.

I yearn for the Harrogate perfumes
As wafted by each pretty maid,
The scent you inhale tells a wonderful tale
And puts Araby right in the shade,
Of powder the faintest suggestion,
It's a pleasure that shouldn't be missed,
For perfume, there's really no question,
It's Harrogate – top of the list.

Throughout the long hours of the morning
I'm busy as busy can be,
With papers my table adorning
My toil is a burden to me,
But to work I'm a steady adherer,
I've got vigour and vim and a punch,
So I stick it until the time's nearer
When I joyously knock off for lunch.

Refrain.

Then I yearn for the Harrogate perfumes,
From their Restaurant doors that you get,
The chops and the chips make you moisten your lips,
And the pheasants are "niffy" you bet;
And tripe makes you pull up your braces,
And the pork is both pungent and prime,
But for cheese that can kill at six paces
It's Harrogate – every time.

There are all sorts of scents in creation,
Tastes vary as everyone knows,
Some folk get delightful sensation
From any old zephyr that blows;
There's heliotrope, lavender, lily,
Each has its admirers it's true,
You'll probably think I am silly,
When I mention, between me and you

Refrain.

I yearn for the Harrogate perfumes
From their beautiful baths and their wells,
Go all the world round and no place can be found
That is anything near them for smells,
There's Barking you'd scarcely call balmy,
And Bermondsey causes some talk,
But for extract of "Niff"
When you once get a whiff
Why! HARROGATE wins in a walk.