Chorus
Mary, oh, Mary, please come ’ome to me,
Expects to go crazy wi’ listenin’ to thee;
If tha gets murdered then I shall get ’ung,
I shall ’ave to put up with th’ natterin’ tongue.
1
I never could understand, choose ’ow much I tried
Exactly just ’ow it were done,
Dippin’ them sheep into that stinkin’ beck
An’ slappin’ their stamps till they run.
Well, I made a mess on it there where I tried,
On that greasy bank where I tripped,
Fell into t’ sheep-’ole an’ went ower tip,
Now it were me ’as got dipped.
2
I thought it were time I got ploughin’ again,
It’s rough in that old bottom lea;
Blade were all rusty but started all right,
But I cannot do it like thee.
Well, t’ ’andle flew up, I’ve a lovely black eye,
Then t’ old plough it went an’ got stuck;
T’ old ’oss won’t budge ’cos she’s castin’ a shoe,
An’ I’m ower ankles in t’ muck!
3
I never could boil up that swill tub like thee,
Thou’s ’andy at muckin’ pigs out,
Here I am ower pestered today,
An’ I don’t even know where to start,
There’s ten in this litter all fightin’ like mad,
All fetchin’ and fightin’ to suck,
One’s fell in swill tub, I can’st get her out,
An’ I’m ower t’s ankles in t’ muck!
4
I never knew ’ow th’ managed at all
To deal wi’ this awk’ard old cow;
As soon as she sees me she tosses ’er ’ead
An’ she’s startin’ to kick up a row;
Then she stands still, an’ then lets me go on,
An’ I gets a good milkin’ can full,
Then she kicks out, An’ milk’s all ower t’ floor,
An’ then she’ll bellow for t’ bull.
5
I went into pen-’ole to see what were up,
To clean ’em and straighten up pens;
T’ door were all stuck, an’ t’ floor plastered up,
There really were no room for t’ ’ens.
They’ve gone into t’ parlour, taken two cocks an’ all,
I really can’t blame ’em for that.
I know tha won’t like it ’em layin’ their eggs,
There in their best Sunday ’at.
6
Been wearin’ these pants an’ this old woollen shirt
Since th’ went away t’ other week.
Could do wi’ a bath, but can’t get watter warm,
I’m grubby an’ stinks like sheep;
Then there’s t’ old dog, well ’e ought to be washed,
An’ then there’s this frowsy old cat;
We’re all gettin’ lousy, no doubt about that,
All on us startin’ t’ scratch.