Cushie Butterfield
A great favourite at any Geordie song session.
Aa's a broken hairted keel man and Aa's ower heed in luv
Wiv a young lass in Gyetsid and Aa caal hor me duv
Hor nyem's Cushie Butterfield and she sells Yalla clay
And her cousin is a muckman and they caal 'im Tom Gray.
She's a big lass an' a bonny lass an' she likes hor beor
An' they caall hor Cushie Butterfield an' Aa wish she was heor.
Hor eyes is like two holes in a blanket bornt throo,
An' hor broos iva amornin' wad spyen a yung coo,
An' when Aa heer hor shootin' - Will ye buy ony clay?"
Like a Candyman's trumpet, it steels me yung heart away.
She's a big lass, etc.
Ye'll oft see hor doon at Sangit when the fresh harrin cums in,
She's like a bagfull o' saadust tied roon wiv a string;
She weers big golashes tee, an' hor stockins once was white,
An' hor bedgoon it's laelock, an' hor hat's nivvor strite.
She's a big lass, etc.
When Aa axed hor te marry us, she started te laff;
"Noo, nyen o' yor munkey tricks, for Aa like nee sic chaff;"
Then she started a' bubblin' an' roared like a bull,
An' the cheps on the Keel ses Aa's nown but a fyeul.
She's a big lass, etc.
She ses the chep 'et gets us 'ill heh te work ivvery day,
An' when he comes hyem at neets he'll heh te gan an' seek clay;
An' when he's away seekin't Aa'll myek baals an' sing,
O weel may the keel row that ma laddie's in.
She's a big lass, etc.
Notes:
Yalla clay = hearthstone
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