"Wot's up we yo mother.

As summut geet yo deawn.

Yo favver yuv font a thrip'ny bit

Un lost an hay'f er creawn"

Eeh!

"Am just sut ere on mi own

Think'in abeawt thowd lad.

Aay.. Aah wish thowd cock were ere neaw.

Then things would'nt seem so bad.

Aah used gerr on at im, tha knows.

For breyk'in wind un stink'in.

Aah'd gee owt neaw, fot hear im fart.

Un aah would'nt mind im drink'in.

Aah'd luv be tuck'in his shart lap in his drawers.

Un mek'in sure his fly was done up.

Un tak'in him bed when he geet wom at neet.

Aw them times he'd ter much fot sup.

Aah would'nt complain abeawt shit on his lap

Or't snot that was aw deawn his sleeve.

Or in't latter days when he pee'd deawn his leg.

Aah just wish't thar he did'nt at leave.

Aye!

Aah wish't he was here we us neaw.

Un then aah could kiss his bawd yed.

Aw't things aah wish't ad er towd im.

But neaw …. it's too late fot bi said.

It dun't seem two tics sin he popped his clogs

Laah'k Darby un Joan we used fot be.

Un neaw…when aah think abeawt thowd lad.

Aah wish the Lord er'd tak me.

Neaw, come on mother,buck yo'sel up.

Dwell'in on it's beawnt be upsett'in

Un yo know just wot mi fayther er'd sey.

Neaw, Esther, thee stop thi frett'in.

He would'nt waant yo sut abeawt mope'in.

Yo know just worr he'd say.

Come on ar Ace. Gerr off thi arse.

Un make us a nice cup er tay.

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Copyright © 1998 Jeff Unsworth

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