Yorksher clogs

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Yorksher Clogs 
(To blue suede shoes by Carl Perkins)

Well it's one for the Yorksher,
Two for the show,
Three get my flat cap,
Then go, now go.

But don't you step on my Yorksher clogs,
Well you can do anything but
Stay off of my Yorksher clogs.

Well, you can nick the car, kick the cat,
Steal the missus, yes I'll give you that,
Do whatever, with your pit bull dogs,
But uh oh buddy, stay off of my clogs.

Don't you, step on my Yorksher clogs,
You can do anything but
Stay off of my Yorksher clogs,
Let's go, Tykes (make the pudding).

You can spoil my tools, burn my shed,
Use me wireless till the battery's dead,
Do whatever, with your pit bull dogs,
But uh oh buddy, stay off of my clogs.

Don't you, step on my Yorksher clogs,
You can do anything,
But stay off of my Yorksher clogs,
Ey up!

Well it's one for the Yorksher,
Two for the show,
Three get my flat cap,
Then go, now go.

But don't you step on my Yorksher clogs,
Well you can do anything but
Stay off of my Yorksher clogs.

York, York, Yorksher clogs, oh missus!
York, York, Yorksher clogs, ey up!
York, York, Yorksher clogs, oh missus!
York, York, Yorksher clogs,
You can do anything but
Stay off of my Yorksher clogs.

A Yorksher man abroad

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 A Yorksher man abroad 

Fingers crossed, 
We took a chance, 
Packed our bags 
And moved to France.
Got involved
And integrated, 
Those French verbs, 
So complicated. 

Ten years later, 
And pull of friends, 
Finds us in the 
U.K, again. 
In Lancashire! 
Now that's a wrench, 
Much worse than learning 
Blooming French!  

Courting, Yorksher style

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Courting, Yorksher style

She breathed down me neck,
I thought, 'Flippin' 'eck.
I am in wi' a shout,'
So, I bought 'er a stout.

A Yorksher Compliment

A Yorksher compliment  

Second only to me dog, 
Tha's  the best thing in me life 
And tha' knows I love yon dog 
More than what I love me wife.

The Yorksher C Bomb

Dauphy: Woah Hobbo, no! Don’t go there!

Hobbo: In a spirit of educating our readers, I feel that I must.

Dauphy: Okay, but I’m not taking the stick for this.

Hobbo: Fair enough….. People of a certain age (me), never use the C bomb in mixed company, and rarely even in all male company. Yorkshire, however, is the only place where the C bomb can be used in polite conversation without even raising a flicker of disapproval. In Yorkshire, where English is spoken as the Good Lord intended, the C bomb is simply a contraction of the words could and not, or couldn’t. When couldn’t is pronounced in a Tyke accent, it comes out as cun’t, pronounced exactly like the C bomb.

Even to Tykes, this can occasionally be confusing. For instance, if my mate says to me,”Yer cun’t”, is he telling me that I can’t do something, or is he calling me a name which would have had my gran reaching for the carbolic soap? Everything needs taking in context. here is a little example:

The Yorksher C bomb.

Tha' cun't use a comb
Cos thee 'airs a bit sparse,
And tha' cun't marry 'er
Cos she's gorra' fat arse.

You have no requirement for a comb
Because you are almost bald,
and you could not tie the knot with her
Because she is rather a large lady!

Dauphy: I thought you explained that quite well, but I still think you are in dangerous territory.

Hobbo: We’ll see…

A Yorksher Rant

Dauphy: Are you entering Chelsea Owen’s poetry challenge this month?

Hobbo: No, I don’t think so.

Dauphy: Why not.

Hobbo: I can’t get a handle on the subject.

Dauphy: What is it?

Hobbo: You have to write a rant. I haven’t got a rant in my body!

Dauphy: Psht!

Hobbo: What do you mean, psht?

Dauphy: You’re a Yorkshireman aren’t you? Ranting is as natural as breathing.

Hobbo: Thanks Dauphy. I’m not sure I agree with that, but you’ve given me a great idea.

Dauphy: De rien!

A Yorksher Rant

Tha' mun think that, am med o'brass
Well, shove it up yer Khyber Pass
Fifty bob fer chips wi' scraps
I dunt pay that fer good flat caps!

Tha' thieving sod, tha'll rob me blind
'all take me stick, 'ave 'alf a mind
To stick it where the sun don't shine
Tha' robbin' git, tha' greedy swine.

I'm an O.A.P tha' knows
I wotchit, where me money goes
So, tha' can keep thee chips, instead
'all mek do wi' some drippin' bread.


Translation
You may think that I have lots of money
Well, you can put that money in your bottom
£2.50 for french fries with trimmings
It costs me less for decent headgear.

You are a thief who is prepared to scam me
I am inclined to take my walking cane
And put it in a painful place
you robbing villain, you greedy scoundrel.

You know I'm an old age pensioner
And I have to be prudent with money
So you keep your chips for yourself, whilst I
Will have some bread spread liberally with pork fat.

The Yorksher Alphabet

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The Yorksher Alphabet

A  is food for 'osses.
B  a stripey insect that makes 'unny.
C  a big, wavy pond full of fish.
D  a river in Wales.
E  by gum, a fairly meaningless Yorkshire expression.
F and Jeff, to swear.
G  an expression of delight.
H  the thing a woman will never disclose truthfully.
I    usually come in pairs. used for seeing.
J    a type of bird.
K  a lasses name
L  where I'll likely go after I die.
M  a polite way of interrupting a conversation.
N  a domestic bird, lays eggs for our breakfast.
O  an expression of surprise.
P  done a lot after too much to drink.
Q  an orderly line, peculiar to Brits.
R  a state of existence, as in you R.
S  a whispered affirmation.
T  'ot beverage, served with biscuits.
U  thee
V   a rude salute.
W  definitely thee.
X  things that 'ens lay.
Y  a toddler's favourite question.
Z  noggin, skull, as in he's off 'is Z.

With thanks to The Two Ronnies and Baldrick from Black Adder for a couple of these definitions!

A Yorksher love poem

Hobbo: The French are a romantic bunch aren’t they Dauphy?

Dauphy: We are, why?

Hobbo: I thought that I’d move away from funny poems and try my hand at something a bit more romantic.

Dauphy: Mon Dieu!

Hobbo: So, I’ve written a love poem.

Dauphy: This has trouble written all over it! Let’s have a look then…

A Yorksher love poem

Tha'll get me pension, when I die
and 'tools inside me shed.
You are the gravy in me pie
the girl I chose to wed.

Tha's like the salt, I put on 'chips
The froth that warms me beer
a lass that wobbles when she strips
to who there's no compeer.

And tha's the lass what 'ad me kids
and set me 'eart a thuddin'.
As solid as two dustbin lids
the air in 'Yorksher puddin'.

Tha's the mush in mushy peas
The fluff in fluffy slippers
What taught me 'bout the birds 'n'bees
The girl that cooks me kippers.

Tha's the match what lit me fire
The stubble on me chin
Who dances like a tumble drier
The nine in feminine.

So, me love, rough as you are
'tis death will force our partin'
Tha's more use norra flashy car
Despite tha' flippin' fartin'.


Yorksher:  Yorkshire
tha'll:  you will
me:  my
tha's:  you are
compeer:  compare
'eart:  heart
Yorkshire pudding:  A savoury'pudding' eaten with roast dinners
norra:  than a

Dauphy: The mush in mushy peas!

Hobbo: I know, it’s good isn’t it?

Dauphy: Has Mrs Hobbo seen this?

Hobbo: No. Not yet.

Dauphy: Well, don’t show her it, or you’re dead!

Hobbo: Why? I thought she’d like it.

Dauphy: Where do I start?…

Tha’ll need some PPE

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Tha'll need some PPE

Tha's off to China for thee hols
Tha'll need some PPE
Tha's off to China for thee hols

Tha'll need some PPE
Tha'll need some PPE

Tha's gonna need some PPE
Tha'll need some PPE
Tha's gonna need some PPE

Tha'll need some PPE
Tha'll need some PPE
Tha'll need some PPE

Tha's gone and caught this dreaded bug
Tha'll need some PPE
Tha's gone and caught this dreaded bug

Tha'll need some PPE
Tha'll need some PPE
Tha'll need some PPE

So they've put thee in quarantine
Tha'll need some PPE
So they've put thee in quarantine

Tha'll need some PPE
Tha'll need some PPE
Tha'll need some PPE

We're all confined to tier three
Tha'll need some PPE
We're all confined to tier three

Tha'll need some PPE
Tha'll need some PPE
Tha'll need some PPE

But there's a vaccine on its way
Tha'll need some PPE
But there's a vaccine on its way

Tha'll need some PPE
Tha'll need some PPE
Tha'll need some PPE

Tha's forty one, tha's far too young
Tha'll still need PPE
Tha's forty one, Tha's far too young

Tha'll still need PPE
Tha'll still need PPE
Tha'll still need PPE


Tha'll:  You will (pronounced tharll)
Tha's:  You are (pronounced thars)
Thee:  You

Hobbo: This song can be sung to Yorkshire’s own ‘National Anthem’ On Ilkla’ moor ba’ht’at.

Dauphy: What the heck does that mean?

Hobbo: Sorry Dauphy, Forgot that you’re French. It means ‘On Ilkley moor without a hat’. Here’s a video for those who don’t speak Tyke (Yorkshire).

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