Ah'm no' dreamin' reet noeauw uv t'wihte Chrismus,
Ah'm dreamin' uv dehs lung agaw:
Uv Chrismusses back in owd Blowick -
Uv sutchlihke us doan't see naw maw.
Awl werkin' class famblies lihke us weer
Dirrent 'ave sa mooch brass, dosta knaw?
Wen Ah weer a lad t'weer t'Depreshun
In Lancasheer joos afore t'war.
Weer reet problum fer moast mams 'n' dads then,
Wen childer 'ung socks oop at neet
'N' 'awped Father Chrismus'd cum bah
'N' leave 'em sum prezzie aw treat.
Li'l wuns dirrent 'speck mooch then --
An oringe, sum nuts, stoof lihke that,
Sum 'umbugs aw Uncle Joe's Mint Balls,
'N' if tha's looky, a nihce pehper 'at!
Sum looky kids went t' t'grottaw
Weer owd Father Chrismus wud be,
T' ast worrem wontid fer prezzies
In t'stockins aw oonder t'tree.
Well, t'lads'd awl want t'Meccano
(Bu' knew tharrit wudden be new)
Wihle t'lasses wud ast fer a dolly,
'N' 'appun a whip 'n' top too.
Wun Chrismus Ah got warra wantid --
A secund 'and wihnd-oop toy trehn.
(T'lad cross t'back 'ad a 'leckie --
Ba gum. 'e weer a reet pehne!)
'N' wen Ah weer sevun t'war cehme,
Wi' t'blackoeaut 'n' rashonin' too.
'N' awl t'lihtes went oeaut acrost England
'N' goodies becehme very few.
Oringes, lemuns, bananas,
Weer things uv t'past, us cud tell.
Theh sed it weer "fer t'durehshun"
Saw Chrismus it suffud as well!
Me mem'ry noeauw rehces ahead lihke,
T' 'appia tihmes lehta un:
Uv Chrismusses theer in t'fifties --
Ah'll tellee reet noeauw, theh weer fun!
Ah've reet preshus mem'ries uv them dehs,
Uv t'lasses 'n' t'lads Ah knew well.
Us nevva thawt theh wud end then;
Bah 'ecky, wot tehles Ah cud tell!
Theer weer allus big dance Chrismus Eve then
'N' t'tickets wud sell reet aweh.
Us'd lihne oop fer 'ours joos t' gerrem,
'N' inflehtid prihces t' peh!
Burrus dirrent cur, norrat Chrismus.
This 'ere dance weer a "moost" bah awl means.
Us'd dance moast t'quicksteps 'n' t'foxtrots,
'N''cross fer t'quick pihnt at t'Queens.
Then back t' th'awl fer moor dancin'
Till baht 'alf past 'leven Ah suppawse,
Then run fer t'last bus back t' Blowick
Fer Midnihte Communion, tha knaws.
Well, awl yon's lung gun Ah be thinkin',
Things 'ave awl chehged yet aggen.
Bu' wenevva Ah think abaht Chrismus,
It be them as Ah thinks uv -- back then!
Bu' sum things doan't chehnge Ah con tellee,
T'real meanin' o' Chrismus stehs t'sehme
God sent us 'Is Son fer t' sehve us --
T'purpus fer witch Jesus cehme.
Saw Ah'll end naw, 'n' send this 'ere greetin'
T' awl me gud mehtes un t'Net:
'Ere's wishing thi awl evry blessin' --
Meh tha Chrismus be t'gradeliest yet!
CUNNING FIEND (fxwilson@telusplanet.net)
Camrose, AB - Sunday, December 21, 1997 at 18:36:01 (EST)
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