Aston!
I want to sing your praise Aston.
Forever your praises shall be on my lips.
Lips that eat salt.
Dreams you make come through.
Aspirations, a reality.
Unconditionally does these lips praise and honour you.
Oh daughter of Birmingham, born in 1895.
Located at the heart of this great city.
Among your sisters, you reign supreme.
A flower you are.
A flower that stands the tests of all seasons.
You never die.
I want to sing your praise Aston.
Oh Queen of earlier generations, that of current generation and generations to come.
Complacent? You are not.
Your great achievements you embrace as a stepping-stone to greater heights.
The fruits of your womb are proud of you.
Your sons and daughters, your praise they sing.
Aston, excellence is the portion of your fruits.
You equip them with requisite skills.
Your strengths they know; and your weaknesses you set out to improve.
Oh daughter of Birmingham,
Oh Queen of all generations,
Oh Mother of great minds,
Your praise we sing.