Wahrk An' Words by Fred Hirst
It stahrted ei' t' invention, man-made thread,
Coupled wi' automation, wot an impact it 'ed.
Modern machines wo wanted an' brand new mills',
Nooah longer needed ta nestle in Satanic 'ills.
All ovver t' West Riding, mills ceased ta clatter,
'ah many fowks wor aht o' wahrk didn't matter.
Ivverybody wo concerned abaht it except t' goverment,
Multinationals built mills weer a pahnd o' rice paid t' rent.
Then the' introduced mechanisation inta coil,
The' cudn't gerr it fast enuff aht o' t' 'oil.
collieries an' power stations 'ed tons o' t' stuff,
T' trouble wo, the' cudn't burn it fast enuff.
Plastics 'ev limited t' demand for iron an' steel,
An' t' Yorksher wahrkers ageeahn gor a raw deal.
Vast areas of 'eavy industry wo raised ta grahnd,
Mills cloised, pits cloised, weer wo t' jobs ta be fahnd?
Aht o' t' industrial muck an' sweeaht, dialect is seen ta remain,
Nah t' Minister states, " From usin' dialect we must refrain."
Victorian businesses built fortunes on ahr Faathers' back,
Keep talkin' dialect, we must nivver loise t' knack.
We're Off Ta Zoo by Fred Hirst
Mi Mam said, "Ta Belle Vue Zoo we're bahn ta gooah."
Ah wor excited, Ah'd nivver been to a zoo befooahr.
I' Bob Foster's charabanc we're bahn ta ride,
Reight up t' Penines an' dahn t'other side.
It 'ed be almooahst dinner time w'en we got theer,
Mi Mam sat us on a seeaht 'til she got some teeah.
Ther' wo lions, tigers, monkeys an' some elephants too,
We'd ne'er seen sooah many animals packed in a zoo.
The' called it an aviary, birds of ivvery sooaht,
Surmmat wo runnin' up an' dahn t' rocks maybe a gooaht.
After teeah, mi Mam took a walk rahnd t' fairgrahnd,
'cos we'd been good we 'ed a ride on t' merry-go-rahnd.
Stahrted gerrin' dahrk an' it wo time ta gooah,
W'at a shame we cudn't stop ta see a bit mooahr.
Ah fell asleep as 'ooahm on t' chara we we sped,
Ah wo still asleep w'en mi Mam put me ta bed.
Winter's Comin' by Fred Hirst
Tha knaws that winter's comin' w'en trees ahr gerrin' bare,
W'en neets ahr drawin' in an' ther's a nip i' t' air.
'evvin' ta shut winnders an' purrin' another blanket on' thi bed
An' weerin' a pullovver an' 'evvin' summat on thi 'ed.
W'en t' wife gi's the' wahrm porridge, tha knaws winter's neeahr,
She nooah longer gi's the' salad ivvery day for thi teeah.
Dahrkness comes early, tha'draws curtains sooiner on a neet
An' tha gets aht thi fur lined slippers ta purr on thi feet.
Thi gahrden looks untidy as thi flahrs nooah longer bloom
An' tha's ta tidy all t' leeahves off thi lawn, wi’ a broom.
Wakkenin' up on a mornin' an' finndin' it's still dahrk,
Feelin' it's a bit too cawd for a walk i' t' pahrk.
W'en tha sees t' mooin wi' a halo an' t' stahrs ahr breet
An' t' clahds scud across t' sky; it cud be bitter taneet.
Nah that Summer is gooin' an' winter's not fahr away,
'ev summat wahrm ta eyt an' wrap thisen up neet an' day.
Wot Abaht Termorrer by Fred Hirst
Ah've lived i' this village for many yeeahs o' mi life,
Twenty two wi' mi Mam an Dad, fifty one wi' t' wife.
I' nineteen twenties we lived in a cottage, two up an' one dahn.
Ivvery Saturday mi Mam went shoppin' i' t' mahket, i' ‘tahn.
Mi Mam an' Dad slept ivveryneet dahnstairs in a shut up bed.
Sometimes, for a meeal, we 'ed ta mak do wi lahd’ an’ bread.
Durin' '26' strike ivverybody 'ed nowt, we wor all pooahr,
Many a time mi Mam sat dahn i' t' rockin' chair an' rooahr.
Af ter t' wahr, things improved an' miners wahked ivvery day,
Wi' coil cutters an' conveyors it wor easier an' wi' better pay.
That went on for thirty yeeahrs, we nivver 'ed it so good,
For' ahr long would it last, for ivver? Ah wished it would.
The' stahted rivin' coil aht faster than ivver befooah
An' coil booahd wanted ta get mooah an' ivver mooah.
Ahtside all t' power stations t' coil wo piled up 'eigh,
I' t' end t' coil booahd wo fooahced ta call it a day.
Like a lot mooah, ahr pit shut up, electric booahd is buyin' gas
An' nah t' lads i' t' village ahr livin' on redundancy brass.
Lots o' schooil kids will ev top weight on gerrin' a job,
Nah some of 'em do nowt else but commit a felony an' rob.
Wot Does Ta Want Ta Be W'n Tha Grows Up? by Fred Hirst
W'en tha leeahves schooil will ta be a film stahr,
Maybe a barrister an' tak thi place at t' bahr?
Possibly a racin' driver 'at speeds rahnd a track.
Or would ta like ta be a jockey ridin' on an 'osses back?
Tha could be an astronaut, flyin' past all t' stahrs,
Or a leeahder of a group 'at plays on lahd guitahrs.
Wot abaht a magician 'at maks fowk disappeeahr,
A soccer stahr, scooahrin' goals, makkin' crahd cheeahr?
A bull feighter is a crahd puller w'en 'e shahts ole,
Could bein' a tennis champion reeahlly mak thi day?
Snooker laikers entertain on t' tele, they earn a lot o’ brass,
Golfers can be very rich, the' knock balls abaht on t' grass.
Ah 'ooahp tha's all t' luck i' t' world, wot ivver thi trade,
Ther's nowt like 'evvin' a gooah, dooahn’t ivvr be flaid.
But if tha gets an eight 'til five job like one of us,
Tha'll probably finish up gooin' ta thi wahrk on a bus.
Wot S' All Ah Do Wi' Misen Taday by Fred Hirst
Ah gooah ta closet many times durin' t' neet,
Ah think Ah spend less time sleepin' than on mi feet.
Nah that Ah'm wakken, Ah s'all ev ta gerr up,
W'en Ah get mi legs gooin' Ah'll ev summat ta sup.
Ah'll get misen donned 'til kettle stahrts ta boil,
Might tak a w'ile, Ah often get mi ahrm i' t' wrong 'oil.
'ave got misen donned an' Ah'm evvin' mi drink,
Wot s'all Ah do wi' misen today, let me think.
Gahrdenin' wo mi lobby, but not onny mooahr,
Mi back weern' t bend an' mi knees get sooahr.
After Ah've got weshed Ah'll eva walk an' a sit
Ageeahn Co-op, somebody might join me an' talk a bit.
Then Ah'll ev mi dinner on w'eels, Ah might ev ta wait.
The're smashin', all tha's ta do is wesh up thi plate.
Ah've 'ed a nap after mi dinner, it cud be short or long,
If Ah'm asked weer Ah've been, Ah say Ah've been throng.
W'en Ah weck up its allus time ta mak some teeah,
Ah've lost mi glasses, Ah've purr 'em dahn sum weer.
Makkin' teeah isn't too bad, w'en tha's buttered thi bread,
Ther's meyt, termaters an' lettis an' paste ta spread.
After tha's 'ed thi teeah ther's television t' see,
Tha can pick aht wot's mooahst interestin' for thee.
It i'n't reight long afooahr tha's noddin' thi 'ed.
Ah reckon it's time tha switched off an' went ta bed.
Little man tha tired, tha's 'ed a busy day,
Sooah inta bed an' sleep thi cares away.
Yesterday by Fred Hirst
Ther' wor a time w'en mooahst fowk wahrked i' t' pit or t' mill,
The'd ta wahrk someweer w'en the'd empty-belli.es ta fill.
If tha looks rahnd nah, tha can't see nooahr chimley stacks,
Nor can ta see double decker trams runnin' on shiny tracks.
Young mill lasses singin' i' groups as ta the'r wahrk the' went,
I' them days, not sa much money on tram fares wo spent.
Black smook nooah longer drifts from chimlies up ta sky,
Ruddled dooahsons an' steps nooah longer catch thi eye.
Nooah clatter an' rattle, as w'en fowk 'ed clogs on the'r feet,
Knockers up an' buzzers nooah mooahr ta wacken the' i' t' neet.
T' fog an' snaw an' all cowd winters seem ta 'ev gone,
It seems nahadays nooahbody 'es an ovvercoit ta put on.
T' long 'ot summers wi' day leet ivvery neet 'til after ten,
W'en, if tha didn't get ta bed early, tha'd be up wi' thisen.
Since Ah wor a bairn, ivverybody 'es changed the'r ways,
After all's said an' done we dooahn't want back t' good owd days.