BURCHELLS OF BATTERSEA RISE, THE
From the London Revue "Sigh No More" (1945)
(Noel Coward)


Cyril Ritchard, Madge Elliott, Joyce Grenfell & Graham Payn - 1945



We are those people who seldom make fusses
You see us in tubes and in trams and in buses
We couldn't be classed as 'Noblesse'
Nevertheless, we're not so humble
Any observer who's really observant
Can see how we flinch at the phrase 'Civil Servant'
The Government fools us, bureaucracy rules us
But still we mustn't grumble
We're the class that they take for a ride
Still we say with commendable pride

We're the Burchells of Battersea Rise
We're the backbone of England and proud of the fact
Though in utter confusion we're frequently hurled
By political views from the News of the World
We're supposed to be solid and wise
Though we don't hold with boasting out loud of the fact
If the workers unite
We'll be Left and quite Right
And cry, "Oh what a surprise
For the Burchells of Battersea Rise"

Though we're fed up with restrictions and strictures
We learn about life from the Press and the Pictures
So all our inaccurate views
You must excuse and rise above them
Having survived over five years of war
If the National Government wants an encore
We shall pray that it warms up and fill some more forms up
To prove how much we love them
Though we're dead against rocking the boat
Still we hold the majority vote

We're the Burchells of Battersea Rise
We believe every word that we read in the Press
When encouraged to argue and stick out our chins
We go off at half-cock and bureaucracy wins
We resent and detest and despise
Being talked of as 'This Happy Breed' in the Press
If the author we meet
We'd be happy to greet
Him with two lovely black eyes
From the Burchells of Battersea Rise

We're the Burchells of Battersea Rise
And we see at least four double-features a week
To American war films we'd rather not go
For we say, "How, by golly, would Hollywood know?"
If they have people in to advise
We can only surmise that their teachers are weak
Though we've seen many actors
Win through through Max Factor's
We can't hand them a prize
From the Burchells of Battersea Rise

We're the Burchells of Battersea Rise
And we've written and written and written again
To some local official who Dad seems to think
Might concede us a permit to build a new sink
We've already had several tries
It's as bad as the Battle of Britain again
Though we've drawn up the plans
We shall sit on our cans
Till the old bastard replies
To the Burchells of Battersea Rise

We're the Burchells of Battersea Rise
And we all believed firmly in 'Peace-in-our-time'
We heard speeches from Germans and Eyeties and Frogs
No one knew what they meant, so we went to the dogs
And the Government told us such lies
We've heard plenty of cackling old geese in our time
We were mugs to agree
But in future we'll see
That they don't capitalize
On the Burchells of Battersea Rise

We're the Burchells of Battersea Rise
And when foreigners murmur, "We hope you're all right"
How we wish that they'd buzz off and leave us alone
For we live chock-a-block in an occupied zone
With the land full of alien spies
Poor old England's a bleeding Utopia all right
We've got Bishops and Peers
Who will burst into tears
If the Huns won't fraternize
With the Burchells of Battersea Rise

We're the Burchells of Battersea Rise
And we're faced with a dismal selection again
We may find if we swallow the Socialist bait
That a simple head cold is controlled by the State
Though we know Winston Churchill is wise
And we'd love him to win the election again
If he's forced to say 'Yes"
To the Beaverbrook press
There'll be loud animal cries
From the Burchells of Battersea Rise



(Transcribed by Mel Priddle - July 2018)