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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 CLICK TO PLAY AJS apr00 |
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