I learned this from a guy in the Fox & Vivian folk club in Leamington Spa in the 1970's.

Sep Davey.

He sat on the corner of Bebbington Bush Astride of an old packing case And the dolls on the end of a plank went dancing as he crooned with a smile on his face.

Chorus: Come day go day, wishing me heart for Sunday, Drinking Buttermilk all the week Whisky on a Sunday.

His tired old hand beat the wooden seat and the puppet dolls they danced so gear, A better show than you never have seen At the Pivvy or New Brighton Pier

Chorus.

Well in 1905, old Sep Davey died And his songs was heard no more And the three dancing dolls In a jowlie was ended And the plank went to mend a back door.

Chorus.

Now on cold stormy nights Down Scottie Road way When the wind howls up from the sea You can still hear the voice of old Sep Davey As he croons to his dancing dolls three.

Chorus.

Gear = Good Jowlie = Dustbin Pivvy = The Pavilion Theatre Scottie Road = Scotland Road