'Ea! It's so cold!', I cried from me bed
As I pulled back the coovers an raised up me ed
To see bright rays of sunshine stream into me room
An fill it with joy where before thar were gloom.
I pocked out a toe, and pulled it back oonder
And thought our kid Jack ad made a great bloonder
Cuz outside t'were all glorious, an na cloud were in sight
But inside t'was bloody freezing cuz the heating were shite.
In the car, fookin 'ell, I wouldn't say it were nice
With the screen all glazed over with crystalised ice.
An when I turned on the wipers
An one snapped in two haffs
If I adn't ad cried I might just have well laffed.
But the day soon got better an I dried up me tears
When Skint Sam brought a round for the first time in years
In the Old Speckled Hen
What a fine poob that is
With a slip of a barmaid called Jolly-Faced Jen.
They ad a warm fire wiv coal an big logs
An even Dead Tommy could bring in is dogs
To sit by the arth
An whimper an whine
Til Jolly-Faced Jen would say it were time.
Then we'd all get our long coats, an Bill with is scarf
Wrapped round is thick ed an the dogs by the arth
Would look up in blithe ope at the thought of a bone
Dead Tommy might nick from a bin by is home.
The Rime of Dead Tommy has absolutely nothing to do with our novel. But there I was rummaging around in an attic box of old photos and scribbles, when I came across this forgotten bit of whimsy written on a cold January day back in 1999. Time flies and this is how it goes... (Warning: adult language and improbable northern accents.) Whether it should have remained forgotten is up to you.
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