It were a fortnight las' Tuesday, or two weeks I dare say,
when dad skidded in on 'is clogs.
"Bugger me!" 'E swore, as 'e shot in the door,
"I'm burstin' to get t' the bog!"
Well 'e ran out the back, mam shouts. "Yer daft bat!
Yer've gimme one 'ell of a shock.
'Ave yer 'ad to much t' drink? Didn't yer see me at t' sink?
I've spilt gravy all over me frock!"
Then dad 'e crept back, 'is face white wi' the shock,
an' a damp patch 'e 'ad near 'is crotch.
"It's 'er from nex' door!" 'E said with a roar,
"she were sat there when I opened the latch."
Now in case yer don't know, it were one to a row,
a privy we all shared as a team.
An' if yer 'eard someone comin', yer 'ad t' start hummin',
or whistlin', d' yer see what I mean?
Well,mam took a deep breath,she said."The poor sole's quite deaf,
get yer pants off an go an' get changed."
"I'm not too wet," 'e said, "I'll just air 'em instead."
An' 'e stood legs apart at the range.
It were later that night, mam turned on t' scullery light,
an' put on 'er everyday bonnet.
She were back in a tick, lookin' quite sick,
She said. "'Er from nex' door, she's still on it."
She said. "She must 'ave the runs, or a wobbly tum,
she looks right out o' sorts poor sod.
Let's nip round t' me dads, an' visit th'old lad,
it's an excuse for usin' 'is bog."
So we all put on us coats, an went round t' th'old goats,
'e were posh an' 'ad a throne of 'is own.
We 'ad a quick brew, an' took turns on the loo,
said, "ta ra," an' then set off back 'ome.
We were 'avin' a cup, when mam shouts. "Shurrup!
there's a commotion at t' back o' the shed."
We all shot out the back an saw a bloke dressed in black.
'E said. "It's 'er from nex' door, - - - she's dead."
