What Does an English Girl Think of a Yank

I am not such a clever one

About the latest fads

I admit I was never one

Adored by local lads

Not that I ever try to be a saint

I'm the type that they classify as quaint

That the mother you

Quaint that the brother you

Must be another you

I like the other you

I'm old fashioned

I love the moonlight

I love the old fashioned things

The sound of rain

Upon a window pane

The starry song that April sings

This year's fancies

Are passing fancies

But sighing sighs holding hands

These my heart understands

I'm old fashioned

But I don't mind it

That's how I want to be

As long as you agree

To stay old fashioned with me