|
Now, from Spiretown to Sheffield its only about 10 miles,
As the crow flies, it’s not very far
But folk theer arnt Chezzies, they don’t talk like us,
Thas entered the Land of Dee-Dar
Now, there’s nowt wrong wi’ ‘em—they meck fine steel,
Cutlery, spades, forks ‘n’ trowels.
But whatever they mix in with their steel,
They also mix in with their vowels.
Sat nice and quiet on River Trent, about 30 of’em file past,
On the trek to their pegs from the coach.
“Eyup, DEE !. DAR wor ‘ere a fortnit sin’ –“, said “festen”,
“Is there any big BREEYAM in’ere?----Is there any big ROWACH?”
My mate Al worra Dee-Dar and you couldn’t wish,
For a better, more honest friend.
He was a true-blue Wensder supporter’
Without the –a y –on the end
Owt outa ordinary, summat not rate,
Summat a little bit queer,
Thad ‘ear ‘im ,”Heyup------- Hode on a bit-----,
Theres a duck in hedge here”
Now, 99% --well, 85 then, of the time,
I could pick up on a vowel-mangled word,
But this time he foxed me,
Something as I’d never heard!
I asked how he’d gone on fishing
“Net full” he said, ”And I’ve fished wi’ chays all day”
He’s got me this time.Squats, pinkies-I know ‘em all,
But what on God’s Earth is a CHAY?
I knew what would happen if I asked him,
He’d go to every table and gloat,
“Tha sees my mate stood theer at bar?
I can tell thee nar—he knows nowt!!”
So, I didn’t ask him. I just put it down as one of those daft,
Dee-Dar sayings again,
But for ages after,
It kept twirling around in my brain.
Weeks later, summat happened ,
And the twirling finally stopped
Al were locked art—he’d forgot his door-KAYS,
At last, at last! I could feel the penny as it dropped!
Al was a Dee-Dar rate enough,
It was Sheffield he was born and bred in,
Now I've put COIL in HOIL, I'll have to gerra WESH,
Oh, my God--Dee Dar is spreading!!
|
