Saw ye owt of my lad
Ganning down the waggon way,
With his pocket full of money
And his poke full of hay ?
Aye, but he's a bonny lad
As ever you did see
Though he's sair frowsy freckled
And he's blind of an e'e
There's ne'er a lad like my lad
Drives to a staith on Tyne
Though coal black on workdays
On holidays he's fine.
My lad's a canny lad
He works down the pit.
He never comes to see me
Unless he wants a bit.
With his silver in his hand
And with love in his e'e
I see my canny lad
A-coming to me.
Aye but he's a bonny lad
As ever you did see,
Though he's sair pock-brocken
And he's blind of an e'e.