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The Houghton Weavers
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Awterations
Houghton Weavers
Well they've altered me local but I don't know why,
Cos there were nowt wrong with it, that's not a lie.
It's called modernisation, Landlord calls me 'Sir',
But he's shifted me photo what's hung 20 year.
Well tha may think folks like it cos it's packed up to door,
I've come here tonight but I waint come no more.
Cos it's all made o'plastic, it's plain tha can see,
Well it may do for others but it waint do for me.
Well lighting's all l'ectric, it's affectin me seat,
Floor's made out a marble, can't stick on thi feet.
And sommat else's new when tha goes for a sup,
Tha's taller sat down than thee war when stood up!
Well I'll tell thi sommat else that tha's ne'er seen afore,
I'm telling thi now bout a new sort o'door.
Well it stands theer on axle and it goes round and round,
I can't tell who comes in cos it ne'er makes a sound.
Now I've only bin once wi a scarf round mi neck,
And I moant go agin, no not me will I eck.
Now it doesn't seem reet if mi memory jogs,
Goin down for a pint in thi bowtie and clogs.
OR, for them fowks who talks reet proper…….
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Well they've altered my local (pub) but I don't know why,
Because there was nothing wrong it, that's not a lie.
It's called modernisation, Landlord calls me 'Sir',
But he's shifted my photo that's hung for 20 years.
Well you may think people like it because it's packed out of the door,
I've come here tonight but I won't come anymore.
Because it's all made of plastic, it's plain you can see,
Well it may do for others, but it won't do for me.
Well the lighting's all electric, it's affecting my seat,
Floor's made out of marble, can't stick to your feet.
And something else is new when you go for a drink,
You're taller sat down than you were when stood up!
Well I'll tell you something else that you've never seen before,
I'm telling you now about a new sort of door.
Well it stands there on an axle and it goes round and round,
I can't tell who comes in because it never makes a sound.
Now I've only been once with a scarf round my neck,
And I won't go again, no not me will I heck.
Now it doesn't seem right if my memory jogs,
Going down for a pint in your bowtie and clogs.
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