TWAS on a cord ord winter's neet,

Three of us farm lads stood outside t' village pub.

Wiv beer at three ord pence a half pint,

Ninepence atween us we managed ti rub.

We went in t' pub, and t' landlord said:

"What's you three want in ere?"

"It's cord stood out there," I answered him,

"Could we please each have a half pint of beer?"

He poured it frey an enamel jug,

Wiv't lang drop, ah thought that glass wad crack.

He couldn't get a froth on it, cos it wer absolutely flat,

Si he gav us a penny apiece back.

Twas warm, as owet 't fire we sat,

Better than leakin at farm hoose kitche flear,

Where't bit of hearthrug lifted up,

Wiv 't draught frey under 't deer.

'T landlord hesitated, just for 't minute,

We ad nea idea wat 't age limit could be,

I was just tonned 17,

But ah wor't ordest of 't three.

My granddaughter just laughed at me wein I telled her,

For matches we played pontoon.

Why didn't you play for money, she asked?

That was just the point, we ad noan.

Updated: 12:02 Wednesday, November 12, 2003