Tune: Pat Molloy
Aw'll sing ye a sang aboot a lad,
A lad aw kknaw se weel,
They call him Jack--his uther nyem
Aw thjink aw'll not reveal;
He's always happy iv his ways,--
The neet 'ill not turn dull
If once ye see his jolly fyece,
He's sure te heh the pull
Wi' witty words an' merry jokes
Thor always at his call,
He myeks the cumpny join his laff,
An'empty feuls sing small;
He's just the one we lake to see
When convorsayshun's slack,
Rispected, luv'd biv all his mates,
They call him Carelses Jack.He joins the dance wi' manly grace,
An' sings byeth strang an' sweet,
Aw's sure he's wun the hearts of a'
The lasses i' the street,
But sitll he dissent seem te care
For owt that foaks may say,
Or think, or de,--te him its pree
Ye'd think te heh the sway;
He plays at games, an' loss or win,
He always pays hisshare,
An' let the cumpny scoff or jeer,
He nivor seems te care;
Aw've seen the time when dull me-sel,
An' life to me wes black,
Aw only wish'd aw'd been like him;
Aw envied Careless jack.But, oh, lads, aw've heerd it whispor'd
His happy way's not real,
It's just a cloak te hid the grief
That he wad fain conceal,--
The only lass he'd ivor had
He meant te call his awn
Had jilted him, an' teun a mate
Ov his te be her man;
An' ivor since that time he's tried
Te myek the world beleeve
That he cared nowt for her he thowt
Wad nivor, false, deceive;
Tho Jack can myek a cumpny gay
His heart's still on the rack;
We seldum knaw what uthers feel,
Then pity Careless Jack-Source: Joe Wilson, Tyneside Songs and Drolleries