At End ert week_Neat

At End ert week

1. At end ert week its Easter wake

By the Christ I need the break

Its Blackpool by the sea for me

2. While pirns are sluffing of miles of thread

Sea air el be blasting reight threw my head
To hell wi bluddy mill, Ive had my fill


3. While pickers are banging and dobby knocks

Ill be fishing on Fleetwood docks
Away from din and noise. I’ll be poised


4. Wi shuttle being thrown from side to side
I’ll be resting listening to tide.

I’d stuff the shop floor, it’s a bore


5. While gaffers are getting up sumboddys back.
w’ll be strolling ont sand I’ll track.

He’s a bluddy Burk, but that’s work


6. Just two days more I’ll be on beach.
Wit shade ert mill far from my reach.

This place is getting me down, Ive found.


7. Weaving eight loom is reight hard graft.
I’m sure I’m potty or rotton daft
But weaving is mi trade, I’m slayed


8. By Friday I’ll be rather frail.

But a cupple of pints of ale.
Better mood I’ll be, you’ll see


9. Cos end ert week its Easter Wake.

By the Christ I need the brake.
It’s Blackpool by the sea for me

At End ert week

1. At end ert week its Easter wake

By the Christ I need the break

Its Blackpool by the sea for me

2. While pirns are sluffing of miles of thread

Sea air el be blasting reight threw my head
To hell wi bluddy mill, Ive had my fill


3. While pickers are banging and dobby knocks

Ill be fishing on Fleetwood docks
Away from din and noise. I’ll be poised


4. Wi shuttle being thrown from side to side
I’ll be resting listening to tide.

I’d stuff the shop floor, it’s a bore


5. While gaffers are getting up sumboddys back.
w’ll be strolling ont sand I’ll track.

He’s a bluddy Burk, but that’s work


6. Just two days more I’ll be on beach.
Wit shade ert mill far from my reach.

This place is getting me down, Ive found.


7. Weaving eight loom is reight hard graft.
I’m sure I’m potty or rotton daft
But weaving is mi trade, I’m slayed


8. By Friday I’ll be rather frail.

But a cupple of pints of ale.
Better mood I’ll be, you’ll see


9. Cos end ert week its Easter Wake.

By the Christ I need the brake.
It’s Blackpool by the sea for me

At End ert week

1. At end ert week its Easter wake

By the Christ I need the break

Its Blackpool by the sea for me

2. While pirns are sluffing of miles of thread

Sea air el be blasting reight threw my head
To hell wi bluddy mill, Ive had my fill


3. While pickers are banging and dobby knocks

Ill be fishing on Fleetwood docks
Away from din and noise. I’ll be poised


4. Wi shuttle being thrown from side to side
I’ll be resting listening to tide.

I’d stuff the shop floor, it’s a bore


5. While gaffers are getting up sumboddys back.
w’ll be strolling ont sand I’ll track.

He’s a bluddy Burk, but that’s work


6. Just two days more I’ll be on beach.
Wit shade ert mill far from my reach.

This place is getting me down, Ive found.


7. Weaving eight loom is reight hard graft.
I’m sure I’m potty or rotton daft
But weaving is mi trade, I’m slayed


8. By Friday I’ll be rather frail.

But a cupple of pints of ale.
Better mood I’ll be, you’ll see


9. Cos end ert week its Easter Wake.

By the Christ I need the brake.
It’s Blackpool by the sea for me

At End ert week

1. At end ert week its Easter wake

By the Christ I need the break

Its Blackpool by the sea for me

2. While pirns are sluffing of miles of thread

Sea air el be blasting reight threw my head
To hell wi bluddy mill, Ive had my fill


3. While pickers are banging and dobby knocks

Ill be fishing on Fleetwood docks
Away from din and noise. I’ll be poised


4. Wi shuttle being thrown from side to side
I’ll be resting listening to tide.

I’d stuff the shop floor, it’s a bore


5. While gaffers are getting up sumboddys back.
w’ll be strolling ont sand I’ll track.

He’s a bluddy Burk, but that’s work


6. Just two days more I’ll be on beach.
Wit shade ert mill far from my reach.

This place is getting me down, Ive found.


7. Weaving eight loom is reight hard graft.
I’m sure I’m potty or rotton daft
But weaving is mi trade, I’m slayed


8. By Friday I’ll be rather frail.

But a cupple of pints of ale.
Better mood I’ll be, you’ll see


9. Cos end ert week its Easter Wake.

By the Christ I need the brake.
It’s Blackpool by the sea for me