That were known in these parts as "Owd Nitro" because,
It could blow great big holes in your vest.

Well after a couple o' flagons,
Norm were out like a leight on the bench,
An' to the amusement o' locals,
Were snorin' an' mutt'rin' in French.

After five hours o' kip Norman staggered outside,
To a picture that give 'im a start.
'Is 'orse, scrolls an' quills an' 'is brass'ad all gone,
An' on four piles o' bricks stood 'is cart.

"Sacre bleu!" Norman shrieked when he saw what were done,
Poor frenchie fair trembled wi' fright.
"Serves you reight" chuckled Phoebe, 'er 'ands on 'er 'ips,
"Leavin' t'cart out in Clayton at neight!"

Norm set off on shanks's to London,
'Cause in them days there weren't any trains.
While Phoeb' an' 'er gang sat in T'Whippet,
Dividing their ill getten gains.
  When Norman towd Will what 'ad 'appened,
T'conquerors face turned bright red.
"I'll not waste more wagons on that 'orde up north,
We'll survey all t'locals instead!"

So some folk were spared all th'assessments,
And to phoebe an' pals go the thanks,
Frey Northumberland, Cumberland, Durham,
Westmorland an' a chunk of East Lancs.


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