George Ridler's oven


Thaay stwuns, thay stwuns, thay stwuns, thay stwuns,
Thay stwuns, thay stwuns, thay stwuns, thay stwuns,

Verse 1

The stwuns that built Gaarge Ridler’s oven,
And they quem vrom the Bleakney quaar;
And Gaarge ‘e wur a jolly owld man,
And ‘is yead it grawed above ‘is yare.

Verse 2

One theng o’ Gaarge Ridler I must commend,
And that wur vor a notable theng,
‘E mead ‘is brags avoore ‘e died
Wi’ any dree brothers ‘is zons should zeng.

Verse 3

Thur’s Dick the treble, and John the mean,
[Let ivery mon zeng in ‘is awn pleace]
And Gaarge ‘e wur the elder brother,
And theervoore would zeng the beass.

Verse 4

Mine ‘ostess moid – ‘ur neam ‘twur Nell –
A pretty wench and I loved ‘ur well,
I loved ‘ur well – good raazon why,
Becos ‘ur loved my doag and I.

Verse 5

My doag has gotten zitch a trick,
To visit moids when thaay be zick;
When thaay be zick and like to die,
Oh, theether goes my doag and I.

Verse 6

My doag is good to catch a hen,
A duck and a goose is vood vor men;
And wher good company I spy,
Oh, theether goes my doag and I.

Verse 7

Droo aal the world owld Gaarge ood boast,
Commend me to merry owld England mwoast;
While vools go scramblin’ vur and nigh,
We bides at whoam, my doag and I.

Verse 8

Of furren tongues let travellers brag,
Wi’ ther vifteen neams vor a pudding bag;
Two tongues I knows neer twold a lie,
And ther wearers be my dog and I.

Verse 9

My mother twold I, when I wur young,
If I did follow the strong beer-pwoat,
That drenk ood proove my awver-drow,
And make ma wur a threadbare cwoat.

Verse 10

When I’ve dree zix-pences under my thumb,
Oh, then I be welcome, wherever I quem;
But when ‘ev none, oh, then I pass by,
Tis poverty pearts good company.

Verse 11

When I gwoas dead, as it may hap,
Mt graave shall be under the good yeal tap;
In vowlded arms ther wool us lie,
Cheek by jowl, my doag and I.