Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Northern Cobbler, artist - Crippled Black Phoenix.
Date of issue: 10.09.2015
Song language: English
The Northern Cobbler |
WAÄIT till our Sally cooms in, fur thou mun a' sights1 to tell |
Eh, but I be maäin glad to seeä tha sa 'arty an' well |
'Cast awaäy on a disolut land wi' a vartical soon2!' |
Strange fur to goä fur to think what saäilors a' seeän an' a' doon; |
'Summat to drink? |
sa' 'ot?' |
I 'a nowt but Adam’s wine: |
What’s the 'eät o' this little 'ill-side to the 'eät o' the line? |
II |
'What's i' tha bottle a-stanning theer? |
I’ll tell tha. |
Gin |
But if thou wants thy grog, tha mun goä fur it down to the inn |
Naay? |
fur I be maäin-glad, but thaw tha was iver sa dry |
Thou gits naw gin fro' the bottle theer, an' I’ll tell tha why |
III |
Meä an' thy sister was married, when wur it? |
back-end o' June |
Ten year sin', and wa 'greed as well as a fiddle i' tune: |
I could fettle and clump owd booöts and shoes wi' the best on 'em all |
As fer as fro' Thursby thurn hup to Harmsby and Hutterby Hall |
We was busy as beeäs i' the bloom an' 'appy as 'art could think |
An' then the babby wur burn, and then I taäkes to the drink |
IV |
An' I weant gaäinsaäy it, my lad, thaw I be hafe shaämed on it now |
We could sing a good song at the Plow, we could sing a good song at the Plow; |
Thaw once of a frosty night I slither’d an hurted my huck, 3 |
An' I coom’d neck-an-crop soomtimes slaäpe down i' the squad an' the muck: |
An' once I fowt wi' the Taäilor?not hafe ov a man, my lad? |
Fur he scrawm’d an' scratted my faäce like a cat, an' it maäde'er sa mad |
That Sally she turn’d a tongue-banger4 an' raäted ma, 'Sottin' thy braäins |
Guzzlin' an' soäkin' an' smoäkin' an' hawmin'5 about i' the laänes |
Soä sow-droonk that tha doesn not touch thy 'at to the Squire;' |
An' I looök'd cock-eyed at my noäse an' I seeäd 'im a-gittin' o' fire; |
But sin' I wur hallus i' liquor an' hallus as droonk as a king |
Foälks' coostom flitted awaäy like a kite wi' a brokken string |
An' Sally she wesh’d foälks' cloäths to keep the wolf fro' the door |
Eh but the moor she riled me, she druv me to drink the moor |
Fur I fun', when 'er hack wur turn’d, wheer Sally’s owd stockin' wur 'id |
An' I grabb’d the munny she maäde, and I weär'd it o' liquor, I did |
VI |
An' one night I cooms 'oäm like a bull gotten loose at a faäir |
An' she wur a-waäitin' fo’mma, an' cryin' and teärin' 'er 'aäir |
An' I tummled athurt the craädle an' sweär'd as I’d break ivry stick |
O' furnitur 'ere i' the 'ouse, an' I gied our Sally a kick |
An' I mash’d the taäbles an' chairs, an' she an' the babby beäl'd, 6 |
Fur I knaw’d naw moor what I did nor a mortal beäst o' the feäld |
VII |
An' when I waäked i' the murnin' I seeäd that our Sally went laämed |
Cos' o' the kick as I gied 'er, an' I wur dreadful ashaämed; |
An' Sally wur sloomy7 an' draggle taäil'd in an owd turn gown |
An' the babby’s faäce wurn’t wesh’d an' the 'ole 'ouse hupside down |
VIII |
An' then I minded our Sally sa patty an' neät an' sweeät |
Strait as a pole an' cleän as a flower fro' 'ead to feeät: |
An' then I minded the fust kiss I gied 'er by Thursby thurn; |
Theer wur a lark a-singin' 'is best of a Sunday at murn |
Couldn’t see 'im, we 'eärd 'im a-mountin' oop 'igher an' 'igher |
An' then 'e turn’d to the sun, an' 'e shined like a sparkle o' fire |
'Doesn't tha see 'im,' she axes, 'fur I can see 'im?' |
an' I |
Seeäd nobbut the smile o' the sun as danced in 'er pratty blue eye; |
An' I says 'I mun gie tha a kiss,' an' Sally says 'Noä, thou moänt,' |
But I gied 'er a kiss, an' then anoother, an' Sally says 'doänt!' |
IX |
An' when we coom’d into Meeätin', at fust she wur all in a tew |
But, arter, we sing’d the 'ymn togither like birds on a beugh; |
An' Muggins 'e preäch'd o' Hell-fire an' the loov o' God fur men |
An' then upo' coomin' awaäy Sally gied me a kiss ov 'ersen |
Heer wur a fall fro' a kiss to a kick like Saätan as fell |
Down out o' heaven i' hell-fire?thaw theer’s naw drinkin' i' Hell; |
Meä fur to kick our Sally as kep the wolf fro' the door |
All along o' the drink, fur I loov’d 'er as well as afoor |
XI |
Sa like a greät num-cumpus I blubber’d awaäy o' the bed? |
'Weänt niver do it naw moor;' |
an' Sally loookt up an' she said |
'I'll upowd it8 tha weänt; |
thou’rt like the rest o' the men |
Thou’ll goä sniffin' about the tap till tha does it agëan |
Theer’s thy hennemy, man, an' I knaws, as knaws tha sa well |
That, if tha seeäs 'im an' smells 'im tha’ll foller 'im slick into Hell.' |
XII |
'Naäy,' says I, 'fur I weänt goä sniffin' about the tap.' |
'Weänt tha?' |
she says, an' mysen I thowt i' mysen 'mayhap.' |
'Noä:' an' I started awaäy like a shot, an' down to the Hinn |
An' I browt what tha seeäs stannin' theer, yon big black bottle o' gin |
XIII |
'That caps owt,'9 says Sally, an' saw she begins to cry |
But I puts it inter 'er 'ands an' I says to 'er, 'Sally,' says I |
'Stan' 'im theer i' the naäme o' the Lord an' the power ov 'is Graäce |
Stan' 'im theer, fur I’ll looök my hennemy strait i' the faäce |
Stan' 'im theer i' the winder, an' let ma looök at 'im then |
'E seeäms naw moor nor watter, an' 'e's the Divil’s oän sen.' |
XIV |
An' I wur down i' tha mouth, couldn’t do naw work an' all |
Nasty an' snaggy an' shaäky, an' poonch’d my 'and wi' the hawl |
But she wur a power o' coomfut, an' sattled 'ersen o' my knee |
An' coäxd an' coodled me oop till ageän I feel’d mysen free |
XV |
An' Sally she tell’d it about, an' foälk stood a-gawmin'10 in |
As thaw it wur summat bewitch’d istead of a quart o' gin; |
An' some on 'em said it wur watter? |
an' I wur chousin' the wife |
Fur I couldn’t 'owd 'ands off gin, wur it nobbut to saäve my life; |
An' blacksmith 'e strips me the thick ov 'is airm, an' 'e shaws it to me |
Feeäl thou this! |
thou can’t graw this upo' watter!' |
says he |
An' Doctor 'e calls o' Sunday an' just as candles was lit |
'Thou moänt do it,' he says, 'tha mun break 'im off bit by bit.' |
'Thou'rt but a Methody-man,' says Parson, and laäys down 'is 'at |
An' 'e points to the bottle o' gin, 'but I respeeks tha fur that;' |
An' Squire, his oän very sen, walks down fro' the 'All to see |
An' 'e spanks 'is 'and into mine, 'fur I respecks tha,' says 'e; |
An' coostom ageän draw’d in like a wind fro' far an' wide |
And browt me the booöts to be cobbled fro' hafe the coontryside |
XVI |
An' theer 'e stans an' theer 'e shall stan to my dying daäy; |
I 'a gotten to loov 'im ageän in anoother kind of a waäy |
Proud on 'im, like, my lad, an' I keeäps 'im cleän an' bright |
Loovs 'im, an' roobs 'im, an' doosts 'im, an' puts 'im back i' the light |
XVII |
Wouldn’t a pint a' sarved as well as a quart? |
Naw doubt: |
But I liked a bigger fetter to fight wi' an fowt it out |
Fine an' meller 'e mun be by this, if I cared to taäste |
But I moänt, my lad, and I weänt, fur I’d feäl mysen cleän disgraäced |
XVIII |
An' once I said to the Missis, 'My lass, when I cooms to die |
Smash the bottle to smithers, the Divil’s in 'im,' said I |
But arter I chaänged my mind, an' if Sally be left aloän |
I’ll hev 'im a-buried wi’mma an' taäkt 'im afoor the Throän |
XIX |
Coom thou 'eer?yon laädy a-steppin along the streeät |
Doesn’t tha knaw 'er?sa pratty, an' feät, an' neät, an' sweeät? |
Look at the cloäths on 'er back, thebbe ammost spick-span-new |
An' Tommy’s faäce be as fresh as a codlin wesh’d i' the dew |
XX |
'Ere he our Sally an' Tommy, an' we be a-goin to dine |
Baäcon an' taätes, an' a beslings-pud-din'11 an' Adam’s wine; |
But if tha wants ony grog tha mun goä fur it down to the Hinn |
Fur I weänt shed a drop on 'is blood, noä, not fur Sally’s oän kin |