Black Country Bugle

Th’ode Skewlin’ Days

- by Keith Cherringto­n

Skewlin days um over, at least they bin fer me, It’s bin many odd eers now Since thay turned me free, I well remember me fust skewl, Weer I went at the age of five, They dai arf mek yer ave it, We woz lucky ter be alive,

Yow ad the stick in th’morning Aitch day yow wore on time, Un agen in the daytime, If ever yo stepped out uv line, Althow we kept complainin,’ The taitcher’s then day care, They juss purr on the pressure Un this wor really fair,

It juss guz ter show though, When yo see what’s appenin’ terday Ow rite the taitchers woz back then, Un now it seems all play. Un wen it comes ter leavin, There ay nuthin’ after ter dew, Jobs back then woz endless, Un now theers onny a few,

I wish they cud tern th’clock back, We cud dew it all agen Things wouldn’t arf be diffrent, Burr aye it always if un’ when. Ah’m glad I’ve ad me say though, Now I’ve gorrit off me chest Uv all the pleasures we ad as kids, I know now we ’ad the best.

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