I press my nose against the pane

of the little toffee shop.

Day after day I save my pennies

to spend at the toffee shop.



Come Saturday morn at nine o'clock,

I stand on the cold stone street

A penny every day that I have saved

to buy myself some sweets.



The nice, little lady, old and grey,

with glasses and shawl.

Gives love away to good little boys

who do as they are told.



She's always telling stories

of her childhood days.

She couldn't buy the things that I can

poor families in those days.



Imagine the sweets that I can buy

with six pennies of my own.

I always take my time to choose

the sweets I'll be taking home.



Gobstoppers in my pockets,

brown sugar in my hand,

lollies you suck that last all day,

and sugar that looks like sand