Subject: Lyr Add: Drunken Dolly's Deeth-Joe Wilson
From:
*#1 PEASANT*
Date: 07 May 06 - 10:43 AM
Drunken Dolly's Deeth.
Teun-"Pull away cheerily."
Cum, print us a funeral caird, Mister Printer,
An' put a bit verse on te let the olks see
That aud Drunken Dolly I' jail's kickt the bucket,
An' not before time's the opinion o' me!
They tell ye the falts o' the deed te forget, man,
But sum heh se mony ye cannet de that;
For when leevin she nivvor did gud te nebody,
An' noo she's gyen deed like a venimus rat.
Korus.
Then print us a funeral caird, Mister Printer,
An' but a bit verse on, byeth telling an' brief,
Te show drunkords gain ne respect frae thor neybors,
An' thor deeth's only felt as a happy relief.
She starved a' her bairns for the sake o' the bottle;
The hoose wes as filthy as ony cud be;
She pawned the bairns' claes, just afore they were barried,
An' spent a' the munny I' sum drunken spree.
Her man might cum hyem, but the bite ov a dinner
She gov him wad just fill a bairn three weeks aud;
An' he haddent a suit but wes dorty an' raggy,
An' a' that she did always went te the bad.
She borrowed me shaw' once te gan tiv a christinin,
But popt it forst thing on the varry next day:
Then she myed the job warse wi' sellin the ticket,
An' Mary Smith's goon went the varry syem way.
She pickt Mary's pocket iv a' her man's wages,
An' left them without owt te putll the week throo;
An' blackt Mary's eye when she tell'd her aboot it-
Hoo can ye expect us te grieve for her noo?
She nivvor wes owt iv her life but a bad un;
She'd barter her sowl for a gallon o' beer;
Her only delight-myekin neybors unhappy;
A plague an' a pest te myest ivry one here.
So divvent put owt on the fcaird, Mister Printer,
Te myek folks believe that we find ony grief;
Say it's a blissin she haddent a fethur an' muther,
But nebody left te find owt but relief!
-Joe Wilson
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