about the song called “Way down Summer Lane”. My husband told me it was composed by Bert Mallet who lived in Brearley Street. It was Bert who taught it to me and I took it for granted it was his song. Not many people know the verses to it, so here goes;
Way Down Summer Lane
Now if you’re friends from the country for a day or two,
Take them round the town all the sights to view.
First in cutler’s for a drink you’ll call, you show
Then the fountain and the Old Town Hall.
Then along colmore Row, the car you can catch,
To see the Water Melons on the old Black Patch.
But there’s one sight you must not miss.
Before your friends say goodbye, just mention this.
You ought to see the palm trees swaying way down Summer Lane.
Every Saturday night there’s a jubilation
Hear the Birdies singing in The Salutation
Though there’s snow in Snow Hill,
You’ve cause to take the train.
To your southern home where the weather is warm
It’s always summer in Summer Lane
Now you keep on sighing for your Dad and Mam
Your Mason Dixie Line and your alabam.
You say you’ve heard your Tennesse call,
Yet you never saw Tennesse at all.
and your songs from Mandy Land have been done Brown
So let’s have a song about your home town.
We sang this song always if we went on a trip, on coach or train. When we were older and went in “The Little Bull” on the corner of New Summer Street and Summer Lane, or the ‘Barrel’ on the corner of Tower Street. We used to sing ‘carlo Musseltoff’ which became more popular as a pub song than ‘Way Down Summer Lane’. But if Summer Lane is remembered in later years, as such as Nellie Dean, by lots of us.
