THE SHOEMAKKER

My mother sent me to the school,
To learn to be a stocking-knitter,
But I went wrang and play'd the fule,
And married with a shoemakker.
Shoemakker, leather cracker,
With all his stinking dirty water,
I wish a thousand deaths I'd died
Ere I had wed a shoemakker.

His hands are like a cuddy's houghs, (pony's knees[?] haunches[?])
His face is like the high-lowed leather,
His ears are like I don't know what,
His hair is like a bunch of heather.
Shoemakker, leather cracker,
Stinking kit and rotten leather,
I wish a thousand deaths I had died
Ere I had wed a shoemakker.

He sent me for a pint of wine,
And I brought him a pint o' water,
But he played me as good a trick,
He made my shoes o' rotten leather.
Shoemakker, leather strapper,
Three rows o' rotten leather,
Balls o' wax and stinking water,
Who would have a shoemakker.

>From JC Bruce & J Stokoe, Northumbrian Minstrelsy, 1882
filename[ SHOEMKKR
TUNE FILE: YANKDOOD
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