(Verse)
Every other Sunday afternoon
Walking till the summer Sunday moon
Shines above her, you'll love her
Miss Primrose

See her parasol beneath the trees
Dainty as a flower and Japanese
When she walks out with her Pekinese
Miss Primrose

(Chorus)
Primrose
Was a naughty little blossom
And she lived on Primrose Hill
And she always dressed to kill
When she went up West
And did her best
Primrose
Usеd to come home rather latеr
Than the decent hour that pleased her master
Knowing her daughter
Oughta be kept a prim Primrose