Poverty, poverty knock! Me loom is a-say-in’ all day,
Poverty, poverty knock! Gaffer’s too skinny to pay
Poverty, poverty knock! Keepin’ on eye on the clock,
Ah know ah can guttle when I hear me shuttle,
Go poverty, poverty knock!
Up every mornin’ at five.
Ah wonder that we keep alive.
Tired an’ yawnin’ on the cold monrin’,
Its back to the dreary old drive.
Oh dear, we’re going to be late.
Gaffer is stood at the gate
We’re out of pocket, our wages they are docket;
We’ll ‘a’ to buy grub on the slate
An’ when our wages they’ll bring,
we’re often short of a string.
While we are fratchin’ wi’ Gaffer for snatchin’,
We know to his brass he will cling.
We’ve got to wet our own yarn
By dipping it into the Tarn.
It’s wet an’ soggy an’ it makes us feel groggy,
An’ there’s mice in that dirty old barn.
Oh dear, me poor ‘ead it sings.
Ah should have woven three strings,
But the thread’s are breakin’ and my back is achin’.
Oh dear, ah wish ah had wings.
Sometimes a shuttle flies out
Gives a poor woman a clout.
Ther she lies bleedin’, but nobody’s ‘eedin’.
Who’s goin’ t’carry her out?
Tuner should tackle me loom.
‘E’d rather sit on his bumb.
‘E’s far too busy a-courtin’ our Lizzie,
An’ ah cannat get ‘im to come.
Lizzie is so easy led.
All think that ‘e takes her to bed.
She allus was skinny, now look at her pinny.
It’s just about time they wsere wed.
Making Inkle Braids - An introduction to weaving inkle bands
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