When we get off a bus in Hull,
One of those things, a local touch
We all thank the driver, say cheers
And often thank you very much.
There's a togetherness in the City
That comes from hardships shared
From maybe a gratitude of those
Whose jobs had been spared.
When we hit rock bottom
Out fishing industry gone
Other once local companies
Deciding to relocate, to move on,
That spirit shone through.
And we didn't ask for pity
Just shrugged shoulders to carry
On because we're that type of City.
When this year is over and we've seen
Departure of that type of Vulture
Who flocked to exploit the situation
Of our being UK City of Culture,
And we return to being once more,
In the opinion of those down South,
Just a bunch of big gobbled Yorkies
Residing just by the Humber mouth
Let's not in any way
Encourage them to linger,
Just wish them on their way
With judiscious use of the finger.
Celebrate our togetherness
With humour and aplomb
We are the place whose death
Old Hitler couldn't bomb.
Show those ponsy Southerners
Just what we're worth
We've got muscles in our spit and
We're Proud to be of the North.
Raise your glass in Rayners to the
Memorry of those Bell Bottomed Boys
Celebrate their courage with
Loud and raucous noise
And when you take the bus
For your journey into town
Just still thank the driver
As he stops to let you down.
Just say cheers
Even thank you very much
Because we come from ‘ull
And we have that certain touch.
