Just a little cottage on a Hornsea Street
That I've not thought of for many years.
Miss Binnington served cakes and tea,
A rare treat for my mam and me,
In her little front room, clean and neat
With bay that over looked the street
And small round tables three or four,
For a certainty no more.
Each a splendid little sight
Table cloth hospital white
And china cups and tea so hot
Brought to the table in china pot
And little cakes on the cake stand
That just seemed to draw the hand.
For a little village boy.
A little world of terror and joy
The decision of which cake to choose
And being sure to watch my P's and Q's
For not to would probably bring a clout
And being marched red faced out
Shaming my mam and ruining for me
Visiting Miss Binnington's for cakes and tea.
I can't remember when but suddenly I noticed
Miss Binning ton's Copper Kettle Cafe was gone.