G.H. Goodwin
When t'Romans occupied England
'Avin' settled everyone's hash
A feller called 'Adrian 'oo led 'em, said
'There must be someone else we can bash'.

'We've chased all t'Welsh back to t'coal mines,
An' kept Irish back in the bogs, 
As for t'English, They're quite 'appy 
So long as they can walk wi' their dogs'.

'We've even built roads wi' lamp posts 
So t'dogs will feel quite at 'ome. 
An' if English think their dogs 'appy, 
They'll not bother us lads from Rome'.

A Centurion 'oo 'eard 'im speakin' 
Said, 'There is one place you've never been, 
It's a country North of the Border 
With queerest fellers you've ever seen'.

'I think they call 'em Scotchmen, 
An' you can't understand their talk. 
They wear skirts wi' a sweepin' brush danglin'
To 'elp sweep up ground as they walk'.

'They sound a queer lot,' said 'Adrian, 
'We'd better nip up there an' see.
Call all my legions together,
We'll go tomorrer before tea.'

So t' followin' day they set off 
All t' Romans thought it were fun. 
It were just time of year for a trip out 
And wouldn't take long on t' M1.

'We'll be there in a jiffy' said 'Adrian, 
'It's not far, give or take a mile, 
We'll catch half past twelve chariot 
That runs non-stop to Carlisle. '

When t' legion got on t' chariot, 
They were in a happy mood, 
Wot wi' crates of beer an' potato crisps 
They didn't have time to brood.

'Adrian fancied 'imself singin' 
An' when 'e'd 'ad one or two, 
'E'd make legion stand to attention 
An' listen to t' songs that 'e knew.

When t'chariot pulled in Carlisle Station 
Legion were feelin' quite rough.
Wot wi' beer an' crisps an' 'Adrian's songs,
They felt that they'd 'ad quite enough.

'Right lads' said 'Adrian sharply, 
Finishin' off t'last bottle of beer. 
'Get fell in an' stop larkin' about, 
Remember, we're strangers 'round 'ere'.

Off went Legion wi' 'Adrian leadin' 
Across t'moors where they'd never been. 
An' after a few hours ploddin' 
Reached a place called Gretna Green.

'Right then', said 'Adrian, 'Fall out for a smoke,
Sit down an' take weight off yer feet. 
I'll 'ave a look round this little place, 
Yer never know 'oo yer might meet'.

'I'll pop into that blacksmith's shop 
An' ask 'im price of breakfast an' bed' 
Just then t'blacksmith came out an' said, 
''Ave you lot come to get wed?'

'Come to get wed?', asked 'Adrian.
'Thee wash thy mouth out wi' soap, 
Sayin' things like that in front of my me 
It's enough to make 'em elope'.

'Elope?', said blacksmith, 'It couldn't be better, 
There's enough women 'ere for 'em all 
They've been waitin' years for fellers like them, 
'Ang on I'll give 'em a call'.

Without more ado 'e shouted out loud, 
''Ey up lasses, 'ere's enough men to go round'.
'E'd no sooner got words out of 'is mouth 
When women seemed to spring out of t'ground.

There were fat 'uns, thin 'uns, long an' short,
In fact all kinds of lasses, 
An' one 'oo fancied old 'Adrian 
Weighed twenty stone an' wore glasses.

'I like the look of thee', she said,
'I reckon I could live in Rome'. 
'Adrian, on 'earin' these words shouted, 
'Come on lads, let's get back 'ome'.

'I don't mind sortin' out Scotchmen, 
It's me job to bring 'em to order'. 
'Thy'll 'ave a job doin' that', said t'smith,
'They're all workin' South of the Border'.

'They've all gone to work in England, 
There's only me an' these lasses. 
It's my job to wed 'em off 
To anyone 'oo passes'. 
The end