by Mike Harding It was on the plains of Irlam In the year of 1815 Napoleon was sat in his long-johns Suppin Brasso wi' Josephine. He'd chewed his nails to the very quick So he chewed 'em down ter the slow He were chewin very hard, when up the back yard Came a corporal, his nose all aglow. 'Hey bierd mon Capitane' he cried 'Sacred bleu, mor da lore, parlez vooks' And Boney spat out a big lump of nail And said, 'Bugger me whats to do?' 'Ze lads ave just cum back from ze wigan' said corporal 'Nous played um at ze billiards last night 'But ze Wigan lads cheated and give us wobbly cues 'And sewed all ze pockets up tight. 'And they put lard ont' chalk and glue on nous balls And stuffed up our wellies wi barbed wire 'Then they bunged up our muskets wi parkin, 'So we couldn't get the buggers to fire. 'Then we had to walk 'ome after t'punch up 'Cos tram guard looked at us right black 'He said 'BOG OFF FROGGIES' So we had t'leg it all way back.' 'Ecky le Pecky' said Boney 'I'll show em what teams the best' And he had a quick chew of his fingernails And shoved his hand up his vest. He said dish out some spud guns and catapults too And give t'lads peashooters all round We'll burn down the pie 'n' pea shops And raze chippies down to t'ground. 'Us'll run through Wiggin like a dose of Andrews 'We'll make um all tremble and quake 'We'll loot and we'll pillage, and we'll pinch things as well 'And we'll smash all the Eccles Cakes.' Well he borrowed the Irlam muck cart And some spuds to roast on t'way And with all of his lads on t'wagon He pointed the horse wiggin way But the weather turned rotten to spite him It snowed, rained and hailed and all t' rest So Boney started sulking and chewing his nails And sticking his hand up his vest Soon the horse wouldn't go no further It was weary and smelly and old And it asked for a blanket and time and a half And boots for working in t' cold So they trapes through the snow for a fortneet Dischuffed to the knickers they were They'd icicles hanging from their nom de plumes And frost all over their hair. Well they trudged through the slush round the slagheaps And up by t'canal and by t'pier Till they came to big doormat in t' snow that said BOG OFF!! And Boney said, 'Ey up lads were 'ere.' But the gates of Wiggin was bolted tight Said Boney, 'Phoo what a pest!' And he had another chew on his fingernails And stuck his hand up his vest There he stood at the front gates of Wiggin Frozen tears coming in lumps down his chin And he kicked on t' front door wi is wellies in temper And said 'Come on cheeky buggers, let us in!' But there on the front door of Wiggin A notice he read with a groan It said 'We heard as how you were comin So we buggered off, there's no one at home.' Well Boney he was right blazin' But Wiggin were blazin also Cos they'd left t'chip pan on t'gas ring And Wiggin were all aglow. So they all got round and warmed up a bit And as the flames grew higher He took out a food parcel he got off his gran And toasted his crackers on t'fire. Now Wiggin burned down to ashes And it got cold so they had to retreat And they'd eaten their boots and socks on t' way So they had to walk home in bare feet. Retreating were worst part of t'business 'Cos' lads were starting to see red And they hissed and booed when he walked up in front And chucked snowballs at the back of his head. Now Boney were right pigged off wi all this So that night he worked out a plan He pawned all the lads muskets as they lay there in t' kip And he came home on t' number 11 tram. It was dark when he got back to their street And stars where twinecklin above And Boney's passions rose and bursted all his buttons As he thought of Joseffluent, his love. He stomped the snow off his boots, Opened the door and stuck his rifle in 't plant pot in t' hall He said 'I'm home sweetie pie, light of mi life' Josephine shouted- *##**# (rude things). 'Don't think you can go out bloody conquering' she said 'Stopping out all night wit' bloody lads, 'You're the worst bloody stop-out in Irlam you.' Boney said, 'There's no answer to that!' You've not finished papering the lobby yet This house is a right bloody mess, 'And you just sit there chewin at your nails 'And sticking your hand up your vest. Well she ran down stairs and smashed im in t' gob And when he tried get into bed She got right nasty and picked up the po And emptied it over his head. So you see what they say in the hysterical books Isn't always quite right It was Boney who got deaf and dumb breakfast And Josephluent who said 'Not tonight!' For she made him sleep downstairs on the hearthrug Tossin and turning without rest Kicking the cat and chewing his nails And sticking his hand up his vest.
The end