A Few more lyrics


Bolinder Boatman


Lyrics transcribed by Chris Bragg and Geoff Grainger from a recording by Gary & Vera Aspey


1. Now I've been a boatman for most of me life,
I've travelled the country on through.
Seen the grouse on the moor of Saddleworth Way,
watched trains thunder past out of Crewe.

Chorus
With me Bolinder beating a steady old thump and
there's smoke drifting out of the stack.
We head through the Potteries then on up North,
take a load on and then go on back.

2. I've loaded with pig-iron outside Bilston Town
and coal out of Bridgewater's mine,
I have legged it through Blisworth with ten tonne of salt,
at Northwich dropped boatloads of pine.

Chorus

3. I've basked in the sun on the Middlewich run
and laid up when weather were wet,
Run from Braunston to Lymm in wild winter
gales in order to win a small bet.

Chorus

4. I remember the day of the wagon and horse,
unloading from ships under sail,
Been from Somerset to London and then on to Goole,
from there I crossed over to Wales
Chorus

5. Now I am a boatman, of that I am proud,
I've worked long and hard for me pay.
With the cargoes she's carried the timbers now
creak but the Bolinder's still pumping away.
Chorus


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THE SINGLE BOLINDER

I had a single bolinder
and she was a fine machine
She used to run like hell in the night
when all her parts were clean
I lit her up one morning
at the bottom of Ichington Ten
She pulled around the Basket Bound
before she fired again

And then she burned a gallon a stroke
Titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay
You could see sod-all for smoke
Titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay
The motor went so fast
I wound her up full blast
She pulled out the butties mast
Titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay

Tra, lah, la-la-la-lah
Smackin' it into the cut.

Oh do you ken Old Streeters Men,
the ones with heads of teak
They take a load, of D.S. down
the jam-hole once a week
I was standing on the inside
along the Langley wide
When I sees a pair of boats a-come
with half-an-inch a side

I said "Good God! just look at that boat
Titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay


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THE BRAUNSTON BELLE AND THE NUMBER ONE



When I first saw my Rosie, my heart flew like a bird
Our eyes met at Braunston Junction, smiled but ne'r spoke a word
I watched, as she drifted on the lock-side, like a swan on Tixall Wide
Her hair, was plaited like a fender, head held up, so full of pride


Roses and castles, hearts and flowers
Counting the days, counting the hours


I asked for her hand in marriage and to her father we did run
But he'd vowed, that when she married, it would be to a Number One
My heart fell, when he started speaking, then Rosie, she held the floor
"I'll wed this man or no other, till then I'll work the cut no more"


Roses and castles, hearts and flowers
Counting the days, counting the hours


I swore, that to this place I'd not travel, not to see her work on the land
I may leave here a company man, but worthy will return to take her hand
She said, she would wait for me, there, each and every Whitsun Day
Years passed, and I would hear tell, of my Braunston Belle, from all who passed that way


Roses and castles, hearts and flowers
Counting the days, counting the hours


In time a Number One, I became, 'The Rosie' and the butty 'Ben'
Turned south, upon the 'Shroppie' for to see my Rosie again
As I passed, all the boat's would cheer, bright ribbons and bunting flew
They cleared all the flights for me, for it seemed the whole country knew


Roses and castles, hearts and flowers
Counting the days, counting the hours


The next time, I saw my Rosie, my heart flew like a bird
Our eyes meet a Braunston Junction, smiled but ne'r spoke a word
I watched as she drifted on the lock-side, like a swan on Tixall Wide
Dressed in white, in all her splendour, as she walked on to be my bride


Roses and castles, hearts and flowers
Counting the days, counting the hours

CC