The Single Bolinderby David Blagrove |
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I had a single bolinder and she was a fine machine She used to run like hell in the night when all her parts were clean I lit her up one morning at the bottom of Ichington Ten She pulled around the Bascote Pound before she fired again And then she burned a gallon a stroke, titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay You could see sod-all for smoke, titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay The motor went so fast, I wound her up full blast She pulled out the butties mast, titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay Tra, lah, la-la-la-lah Smackin' it into the cut. Oh do you ken Old Streeters Men, the ones with heads of teak They take a load, of D.S. down the jam-hole once a week I was standing on the inside along the Langley wide When I sees a pair of boats a-come with half-an-inch a side I said "Good God! just look at that boat", titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay It just can't be afloat, titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay The captain must be drunk, his butty looks like it's sunk But it's only Jacky Monk, titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay Tra, lah, la-la-la-lah Smackin' it into the cut. I knew a Braunston lassie once, her age was thiry-four She'd never had a man and so, her heart was very sore One night when she was going to bed, she thought she heard a sound And looking underneath her bed, a burgular she found But she didn't shout nor scream, titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay She didn't scream nor faint, titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay She made quite sure 'twas a man, then she cried hurrah! She locked the bloody door, titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay Tra, lah, la-la-la-lah Smackin' it into the cut. Myself, the wife, the mother-in-law, went down to the Limehouse Quay The Mother-in-law got out in a boat, for a sailor she would be She hadn't been gone a quarter-an-hour, before we hears a shout My Mother-in-Law's in the water, and there she's splashing about She shouts "Help! I cannot swim", titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay I said "Now's your time to learn!", titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay My wife she says "You hound, you'll never watch her drowned ?" I said "I'll shut me bloody eyes!", titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay Tra, lah, la-la-la-lah Smackin' it into the cut. I knew a man on Willow Wren, whose language did embarrass The fellows on the pleasure boats. They called him Georgie Harris So they go up the Shroppie Cut from Helston to Llangollen To get away from Georgie's road and mighty shouts of, "Collin - - Get up that F---in' boat !", titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay "I'll punch you up the throat", titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay You can travel north and south, you can travel near and far But look out at Worcester Bar, titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay Tra, lah, la-la-la-lah Smackin' it into the cut. As I was walking by the cut down at Common Moor I spied a boaties daughter in the butty hatches door She asked me in for a cup of tea with all her might and main And after the brew she served to me I'm going there again I slipped me hand along her calves, titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay She said "Don't do things by halves", titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay I stayed to keep her company, now she's very fond of me And I'm a bugger for tea! titty-fa-la, titty-fa-lay Tra, lah, la-la-la-lah Smackin' it into the cut. |
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