The Rifleman
air- Coal Black Rose

Aw had a dream the uthe neet when everything was still,
Aw thowt aw saw the rifles gan on the moor te drill;
Aw thowt aw saw Clinton's model band playin' the Young Recruit,
And Sir John Fife givben his men a walk oot.

Chorus-
Three cheers for STANLEY'S  lang may he shine!
For iv a'  the concerts i' the toon thor's nyen can lick the TYNE.

Aw thowt aw saw Armstrong's Engineers, wi' thor red jackets they luk neat.
They war' gan te meet the Gateshead corps along Blackett Street;
Then there was Allhuesson's fra' Shouth Shore,
Wi' tho white belts aroond them, they're a vary smart corps.

Aw thow't aw saw the Noodles bould led on by Tommy Carr,
and the kids they wor cryin' ye darnet gan te war!
Thor was one fell off his horse and was cover'd ower wi' mud,
He cried like ony bairn when his nose it started blood.

Aw thowt aw went te STANLEY'S  just to spend an hour,
An aw saw Tom Hanford dein the Black Cure,
He sung Aud Bob Ridley, and danced wi' the clogs:
James cam' on wi' Joe and Tommy, then the Monkeys nad the Dogs.

Aw thowt aw saw James Hodge, that' him that plays the base,
and the second fiddlere te, noo he's in the reet place:
Bob sanderson play'd sum nice airs wi' Aleck on the flute,
And Alek says to Carley Coutts Will ye stand a gill of stout?

Noo thor's Stevenson's lads and Hawthorn's they're vary often here.
Mary Hawks' lads and Abbot's lads nivor want thor beer,
Thor's scores flocks fra' the Railway shops, and Morrison's luikin' on,
the glass-hoose lads, they blaw pipes lang, but Armstrang's number one.
-Geordy Ridley