Bonny Gateshead Lass


Aw warn'd ye hevent seenme lass, her nyem aw winnet menshun,
For fear ye gan an' tellher hoo aw like her, so aw de,
But it's just for lads an'lasses te whispor thor affecshun,
The bonniest lass o' Gyetside'sbonny fyece's bothered me.

The forst time aw saw her,whey aw's sure aw diddint knaw her,
Tho' aw thowt aw'd seenher fyece afore, but cuddint think o' where;
Her blue eye met mine i'passin' up High Street, i' the mornin',
An' her luik wes se intransin,that me heart wes mine ne mair.

Aw diddent see her for aweek, till one fleet at the Bridge End,
When aw strarnpt upon hergoon, an'the gethors corn away;
She said that aw wes clumsy,an' aw said that aw wes sorry,
An' aw humbly beg'dher pardon,aw wes lickt for what te say.

But av wawk'd on biv herside just as if aw had a reet te did,
The convorsayshun forst wes shy, at last it turn'd forst-class
We byeth spoke aboot the weather, an' she rnenshun'd that her fethur wes
a puddlor doon at Hawks's—Oh,maw bonny Gyetside Lass!

She menshun'd confidenshlythat her unkil wes a grossor,
An' his muther's fether'scussin wes a fiddler doon the shore;
An' she spoke se nice an’frindly, an’ smil'd se sweet an' plissint,
That aw thowt aw'd nivorseen a lass se charmin' like before.

She said her muthor kepta shop, an' sell'd hct pies an' candy,
An' her bruther wesa cobbler at the high pairt o' the toon;
An' she wes a dressmaker wegot se kind together,
That aw blis't aw'd beense awkword as aw strampt upon her goon.

Aw myed her laff an' slapme lug, wi' tawkin' lots o' nonsense,
But, bliss ye, when yorcurtin thor's nowt se gud 'ill pass;
Aw askt her wad she be melass,
an' aw'd tyek her oot on Sunday,
To maw delite, she said aw might, maw bonny Gyetside Lass

Backgrounds by Marie