Thank you.

Jon

Warning: They are a bit bawdy...

"When I came home on Saturday night...
As drunk as drunk can be
I saw a pair of mitts on my wife's tits
Where my own mitts should be

I called me wife, and said to her
Would you kindly explain to me
Who owns these mitts upon your tits
Where my own mitts should be?

Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool
Until you cannot see
That's a loverly brassiere that me mother sent to me
Oh, many's the day I've traveled
A hundred miles or more
But a brassiers with the fingernails on,
I've never seen before

Night seven is the same plan, but involves "Who owns the cock that's picking your own lock?", with the wife responding it's a broomstick.

The last verse was sung

"But a broomstick with the testicles on,
sure I've never seen before"

Warned you that it got bawdy...[

M

Jon

But I've also heard the carrot... Depending on who's singing it, how drunk the crowd is, and how drunk the singer is, I've heard everything from very polite metaphor to terminology that I've had to look up later...

One of my favorite pub versions is done as a drinking song, where the band one by one grabs a pint and guzzles it while the band holds the note on "as drunk as drunk can be____________". A few hardy souls in the crowd usually try to match the band drink for drink... with the usual humouros results (Ever seen someone try and order a beer after downing 5-7 pints in under 5 minutes? It's amusing)

M

As I come home on a Monday a little afore my time,
There in the stable were an 'orse that weren't mine.
"Whose 'orse be that? Whose 'orse be that? Whose ever bandon be?"
"That only be a milking cow my mother sent to me."
Well it's many the miles I've travelled, a hundred miles or more,
But a saddle on a milking cow I never did see before.

This song after finding various clues in the bedroom ended with the lover being chased off with a shotgun.

There was also a Geordie version with the chorus words of "Oh you're drunk ye bugger, ye bugger you're drunk You're drunk as you can be." Etc.

Cheers Bill

HTML line breaks added. --JoeClone, 9-Aug-02.

It's a mistake to believe there SHOULD necessarily be seven verses; see the note at the end of this version. Which was submitted to DTrad a while back but appears not to have made it into the database:

TH'OWD CHAP
===========

Recorded by Ewan MacColl on 'Saturday Night at the Bull and Mouth'; Blackthorne BR1055 1977

Th'owd chap came ower t'bank, bawling for his tea,
Saw a pair o' mucky clogs where his owd clogs should be,
Come here, wife, come here wife, what's this here I see?
How come this mucky pair o' clogs where my owd clogs should be?
Y'owd bugger, ye daft bugger, can't you plainly see?
That's just a couple of pickle jars me owd mam sent to me.
I've been ower hills and dales, me lass, and many a grassy moor,
But girt hob-nails on a pickle-jar I've never seen before.

Th'owd chap came ower t'bank, bawling for his tea,
Saw a coat on back o' t'door where his owd coat should be,
Come here, wife, come here wife, what's this here I see?
How come this coat on back o' t'door where my owd coat should be?
Y'owd bugger, ye daft bugger, can't you plainly see?
That's just an owd dish-clout me owd mam sent to me.
I've been ower hills and dales, me lass, and many a grassy moor,
But buttons on a dish clout I've never seen before.

Th'owd chap came ower t'bank, bawling for his tea
Saw a head on t'pillow where his owd head should be
Come here, wife, come here wife, what's this here I see?
How come this head on t'pillow where my owd head should be?
Y'owd bugger, ye daft bugger, can't you plainly see?
That's just a home-grown turnip me owd mam sent to me.
I've been ower hills and dales, me lass, and many a grassy moor,
But girt big teeth in a turnip I've never seen before.

Th'owd chap came ower t'bank, bawling for his tea
Saw a pair o' hairy cods where his own cods should be
Come here, wife, come here wife, what's this here I see?
How come this pair of hairy clods where my own cods should be?
Y'owd bugger, ye daft bugger, can't you plainly see?
That's just a couple of home-grown spuds me owd mam sent to me.
I've been ower hills and dales, me lass, and many a grassy moor,
But home-grown spuds with hairs on I've never seen before.

Th'owd chap came ower t'bank, bawling for his tea
Saw a girt big standing prick where his owd prick should be
Come here, wife, come here wife, what's this here I see?
How come this girt big standing prick where my owd prick should be?
Y'owd bugger, ye daft bugger, can't you plainly see?
That's just a home-grown carrot me owd mam sent to me.
I've been ower hills and dales, me lass, and many a grassy moor,
But a carrot diggin' a great big hole I've never seen before.

[Anyone who considers that it's a verse or two short might like to note that the two principal versions of 'Our Gudeman' in Child (no. 274) end with a broadly similar verse - with the wife in bed with one (or three) 'wrong' men; one version is six verses long, the other seven.]

G.

My favorite version was created by Lorre Wyatt some thirty years ago. Unfortunately, it can only be sung for a group sophisticated enough to know the ballad. It goes (and this is the COMPLETE song):

As I came home with a fifth last night, drunk as I could be,
Saw a head on the pillow where my horse ought to be.
I said to my wife, "My pretty little wife, explain this thing to me,
What's a mush-melon doing on a hat-rack where my milk cow ought to be?"
"You old fool, you blind fool, can't you plainly see?
It's nothing but a dishcloth my granny sent to me."
"Well, I've travelled this wide world over, ten-thousand miles or more,
But a saddle and a zipper on a butter-dish I've never seen before!"

Sing this to the tune of any of your favorite American versions of "Our Goodman."

Sandy