I doe like walkin on the beach
I much prefer the cut
Strollin’ past graffitied walls
With me mon and me mutt.
I doe like fancy restaurants
But I ay ard to please
Just tek me to a graisey spoon
That gis out ‘art disease!
‘Cos I’m a Black Country Wench
Through an’ through
This is weer I belong;
So if yow am from the Black Country –
Then yow’ll know that I ay wrong!
I doe drink bottled spring waerter
I drink council pop
And I like a pint o’ Bonks’s
With a frothy yed on top.
I doe buy packs o’ sweeties
I buy a bag o’ suck;
‘An if yow dare to dis the way I spake –
Yow’ve really pushed yer luck!
‘Cos I’m a Black Country Wench
Through an’ through
This is weer I belong;
So if yow am from the Black Country –
Then yow’ll know that I ay wrong!
Yow like to tek the quickest route
I goo all round the wrekin;
Yow talk the Queens’ English
An’ doe get a word I’m spakin’.
Yow am chalk an’ I am cheese
But yow’m the faggots to me peas –
I’m askin’ yow on bended knees;
Cor yow just tek me back ‘ome please?!
‘Cos I’m a Black Country wench
Through an’ through –
This is weer I belong;
So i’m movin’ back to my ‘ome town –
An’ I doe think that it’s wrong!

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