The morning’s cold, the sky is grey, The papers say it’s here to stay, But none of that can trouble me… I’ve got a nice cup of tea. The kettle sings its little song, It doesn’t take too very long, The finest sound you’ll ever hear… Means comfort’s drawing near. One sugar… Or maybe two… There’s nothing quite… Like Yorkshire brew. Oh… A nice cup of tea… Makes everything… The way it should be… Rain on the window… Warmth in my hands… Life always seems… So wonderfully grand… A nice cup of tea… That’s all I need… To make the whole world… Smile with me… The neighbours pop around at four, They’ve all been here a thousand times before, We laugh about the weather’s ways… Like proper British days. There’s biscuits on a little plate, We’ll save the Bourbons till it’s late, The custard creams are nearly gone… We’ll simply carry on. Some people dream of wealth untold, Of fancy cars and chains of gold, But happiness has always been… A kettle whistling in between. Oh… A nice cup of tea… Brings friends together… So naturally… Whatever tomorrow… May happen to be… We’ll always find time… For a nice cup of tea…
