The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #55877 Message #870917
Posted By: Rustic Rebel
20-Jan-03 - 06:32 PM
Thread Name: Lyr Req: Our Sarahs Getten a Chap
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Our Sarahs Getten a Chap
This is one set of lyrics I found but they said it was a poem. I see the song was done by John Howarth and the Oldham Tinkers on their Deep Lancashire album.
Eh, dear; there's bin some change in Eawr heause this week or two; Wheer once there used to be a din It's like a Sunday schoo'; We never feight for apple pie, We very seldom frap; An' what d'ye think's the reason why? Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.
Eawr fender shines just like a bell, We'n had it silvered o' er; An' th' cat appears to wesh itsel' Moor often than before; Eawr little Nathan's wiped his nose, Eawr Jimmy's brushed his cap; An' o this fuss is just becose Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.
He's one o' thoose young "nutty" men, They sen he's brass an' o, My mother's apron's allus clen, For fear he gives a co; We'n polished up th' dur knocker, too; We'r swanky yo' con tell; But Sarah says it winno do, We'st ha' to have a bell.
We bowt a carpet t'other neet, To wear it seems a sin; My feyther has to wipe his feet Before he dar' come in; He never seems a'whoam someheaw, He says he's noan on th' map; He allus wears a collar neaw Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.
We'n serviettes neaw when we dine; A brand new bib for Ben; Eawr Fanny's started talkin' fine, Wi' lumps in neaw an' then, Sin' Sarah geet her fancy beau Hoo fairly cocks her chin; Hoo has a bottom drawer an' o To keep her nick-nacks in.
Hoo's wantin' this, an' wantin' that, Hoo thinks we're made o' brass; Hoo goes to th' factory in her hat, Hoo says ut it's moar class; Hoo's bucked my feyther up shuzheaw, He darno' weara cap; He gets his 'bacco chepper neaw Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.
He comes o' courtin' every neet, He fills eawr cat wi' dread; He's sky-blue gaiters on his feet, An' hair-oil on his yed; He likes to swank about an' strut An' talk abeawt his "biz"; He's "summat in an of fice," but I don't know what it is.
His socks are crimson lined wi' blue, I weesh he'd do a guyi I weesh he'd pop the question, too, Or pop his yallow tie; My feyther darno' raise a row, An' th' childer darno' scrap; We feel to live i' lodgin's neaw Eawr Sarah's getten a chap.
He's put eawr household in a whirl, He's sich a howlin' swell; I weesh he'd find another girl, Or goo an' loose hissel'; Eawr parrot's gone an' cocked its toes, Eawr roosters conno' flap; We'er gooin' daft an' o becose Eawr Sarah's getten a chap