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!'
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