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(Trad) |
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There was a weaver o' the North
An' o but he wis cruel
The very first nicht that he got wed
He sat an' he grat for gruel
He widna wint his gruel
He widna wint his gruel, O
The very first nicht that he got wed
He sat an' he grat for gruel
There's nae a pot in a' the hoose
That I can mak' yer gruel, O
The washin' pot it'll dae wi' me
For I maun hae ma gruel
For I maun hae ma gruel
I canna wint ma gruel, O
The washing pot it'll dae wi' me
For I maun hae ma gruel
There is nae a spoon in a' the hoose
That you can sup yer gruel
O, the gairden spade it'll dae wi' me
For I maun hae ma gruel, O
For I maun hae ma gruel
I canna wint ma gruel, O
The gairden spade it'll dae wi' me
For I maun hae ma gruel
She gaed ben the hoose for cakes and wine
An' brocht 'em on a to'el
O, gyae 'wa, gyae 'wa wi' yer fal-deralls
For I maun hae ma gruel
For I maun hae ma gruel
I canna wint ma gruel, O
Gyae 'wa, gyae 'wa yer fal-deralls
For I maun hae ma gruel
Come all young lassies tak' my advice
An' niver mairry a weaver
The very first nicht that he got wed
He sat an' grat for gruel
He widna wint his gruel
He widna wint his gruel, O
The very first nicht that he got wed
He sat an' he grat for gruel |
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This satire on the weaver who thinks more of his porridge than of the charms of his new bride, was a favourite among the textile mill lassies, and some versions still use weaving terms. Of all industrial workers only the miners have produced a wealth of song and tradition comparable to that of the spinners and weavers, and it is still common to see a mill girl on the eve of her wedding paraded through the streets of Aberdeen in fancy dress with face blackened and L-plates hung round her neck.
grat=fretted
to'el=towel |
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