As I wur goin down Threakle Street,
To gerra pound o' treacle.
Who does think I met?
Why, none other than me owd pal Mickey Thump.
He sed, "Is tha goin' t'wakes t'neet?"
Well, I thout a bit,
An'I thout a bit,
An'I sed, "I d'n'mind."
So I went.

Eee, an'it wur a grand wakes,
It wur a grand wakes!
Well, six a clock cum,
And seven a clock cum,
And eight a clock cum.
But no Mickey Thump cum.
So I went whom.

Well, I'd'n'sooner getten me neet shirt on
Wen there wur a reet bangin'at frunt dwur
It wur Mickey's sister, an'she sed
Mickey wur ill, an'wud I cum t'see im.
Well, I thout a bit,
An'I thout a bit,
An I sed, "I d'n'mind."
So I went.

Eee an'he wur ill,
Eee he wur reet ill.
He looked at me an'sed,
"If I dee, will tha cum t'me funeral?"
Well, I thout a bit,
An'I thout a bit,
An'I sed, "I d'n'mind."
So I went.

An'it wur a funeral,
It wur a grand funeral.
Thur wur sum what laff'd o'er his grave
And sum wot danced o'er his grave,
But I scriked me eye out o'er the grave
Of me owd pal Mickey Thump.


"Source: Recalled by Susan Gray Young (nee Barnett), born in Bolton, England, on 1st Feb 1914, died in Bury on 30th August 2008, [...] available here"

From Barbaric, Vast & Wild: A Gathering of Outside and Subterranean Poetry from Origins to Present," eds. Jerome Rothenberg and John Bloomberg-Rissman (Boston, MA: Black Widow Press, 2015) pp. 231-3.