Ah. Lovely Rita, meter maid,
lovely Rita, meter maid.

Lovely Rita, meter maid,
nothing can come between us;
when it gets dark, I tow your heart away.

Standing by a parking meter,
when I caught a glimpse of Rita,
filling in a ticket in her little white book.

In a cap she looked much older,
and the bag across her shoulder
made her look a little like a milit'ry man.

Lovely Rita, meter maid,
may I enquire discreetly,
"When are you free to take some tea with me?"

Took her out and tried to win her,
had a laugh, and over dinner
told her I would really like to see her again.

Got the bill and Rita paid it,
took her home, I nearly made it,
sitting on the sofa with a sister or two.

Oh, lovely Rita, meter maid,
where would I be without you?
Give us a wink and make me think of you.

Lovely Rita, meter maid