Now Syd and his mates from t'Masonic
Decided at t'meeting in May
As 'ow they were in need of a tonic
They'd go to Blackpool for t'day
The charra arrived and they boarded
And Syd stated to t'members quite reet
As how he were t'Worshipful Master
He'd sit on his own in t'front seat.
They soon drank the barrel of best bitter
And own ale, what a strange mix!
Arriving in Blackpool exhausted
After watering half of the A6
They went up to t'top of the Tower
And sat down to rest for a while
They gazed down on t'glistening seashore
Then Syd's face burst out in a smile...
"Come on lads" he shouted to t'ethren
"There's some donkeys down theer on the beach
"And we'll have a race on yon buggers
With a wager, say 30 bob each!"
"Can you hire these donkeys" said Sydney
For Syd thought wi' owner he'd haggle.
"Course you can" said t'donkey owner
"There's a small screw underneath t'saddle"
'Smart sod!, thought Syd, but he hired six
Then ethren all got on their steeds
They wiggled and waggled and then moved around
To adjust their 'gentlemens needs'
Syd and t'donkey were off like a rocket
Then South Pier it soon came in sight
"Whoa yer bugger!..." cried Sydney
But t'donkey just kept on in flight.
Now t'ethren were getting quite worried
With t'donkey and Syd out of sight
"We'll have to get a taxi and find him
' Cos he's leading clog dancing tonight."
Wi' 10.80 on th'meter,
They found Syd in the sand to his neck,
"Bloody hell!" said t'Senior Warden
While Deacons retorted "by heck!"
They started to dig with a shovel
Syd looked poorly, really quite wonky
"Tha'll need a JCB lads", said Sydney
"Cos I'm still sat on this old Blackpool donkey!".
Jon Slater May 2001
Submitted 28 June 2002