written by Cliff Gerrard
John Howarth voice
Ah miss thee, Sarah. MemoriesPass t’time away, but dunnot ease
This pain, an’ on rheumatic knees
Ah pray. Rest peaceful.
Them awk’ard words like “Ah love thee,”
Ah couldn’t speyk – Ah’d sooner dee,
Ah weren’t that sooart o’ chap – but see
Ah’m glad a wed thee.
“Ah love thee,” Ah con say it – theer!
But t’pity is as tha wain’t hear,
It’s easy sittin’ in this cheer.
Ah wish Ah’d towd thee.
T’slop – stone’s piled wi’ dirty plates,
It’s months sin Ah black–leaded t’grate,
No donkey-stone on t’step, owd mate,
Ah’ve lost aw int’rest.
Ah used come whoam wi’ bloodshot eyes
From suppin’ ale, Ah’d tell thee lies
‘Bout wheer Ah’d bin, then push thi pies
Up t’table. Tha’d look hurt,
But still tha didn’t nag me lass
Nor moan Ah kept thee short o’brass.
Ah wouldn’t raise another glass
If it’d bring thee back.
If tha could warm me bed, owd hen,
An’ let me stroke thi hair agen,
An’ kiss thi pain away – but then
What’s use o’ wishing’?
Ah stares at t’fire, Ah’m aw red-eyed
But not from ale – from tears that’s dried,
Ah’ve skriked. Ah’ve ne’er moved outside.
Wish Ah could join thee.
A favour Sarah, if tha con,
It’s non deserved, but grant just one,
If t’Good Lord sends for me up yon,
Wait up for me.
© Cliff Gerrard
John Howarth voice
Ah miss thee, Sarah. MemoriesPass t’time away, but dunnot ease
This pain, an’ on rheumatic knees
Ah pray. Rest peaceful.
Them awk’ard words like “Ah love thee,”
Ah couldn’t speyk – Ah’d sooner dee,
Ah weren’t that sooart o’ chap – but see
Ah’m glad a wed thee.
“Ah love thee,” Ah con say it – theer!
But t’pity is as tha wain’t hear,
It’s easy sittin’ in this cheer.
Ah wish Ah’d towd thee.
T’slop – stone’s piled wi’ dirty plates,
It’s months sin Ah black–leaded t’grate,
No donkey-stone on t’step, owd mate,
Ah’ve lost aw int’rest.
Ah used come whoam wi’ bloodshot eyes
From suppin’ ale, Ah’d tell thee lies
‘Bout wheer Ah’d bin, then push thi pies
Up t’table. Tha’d look hurt,
But still tha didn’t nag me lass
Nor moan Ah kept thee short o’brass.
Ah wouldn’t raise another glass
If it’d bring thee back.
If tha could warm me bed, owd hen,
An’ let me stroke thi hair agen,
An’ kiss thi pain away – but then
What’s use o’ wishing’?
Ah stares at t’fire, Ah’m aw red-eyed
But not from ale – from tears that’s dried,
Ah’ve skriked. Ah’ve ne’er moved outside.
Wish Ah could join thee.
A favour Sarah, if tha con,
It’s non deserved, but grant just one,
If t’Good Lord sends for me up yon,
Wait up for me.
© Cliff Gerrard
Cliff Gerrard, a St. Helen’s man, now a resident of Wigan and like the Tinkers, an ardent Rugby League fan is an incredibly graphic Lancashire dialect poet. He has the ability to make his readers and listeners laugh and cry, almost in the same breath. In one of his poems, he portrays sorrow, regret and belated good intention in this portrait of a man mourning the passing of his faithful wife whose virtues he seemed not to have appreciated whilst she lived. John’s ungarnished delivery of Cliffs “To Sarah” is very compatible with the intermixture of pathos, humour, grief and belated intention; magnificently, sincerely and yet simply provided by the author.
First recorded and published by Topic Records 1974.
Album: BEST O’T’ BUNCH 12TS237 STEREO
Recorded at Livingstone Studios
Produced by Tony Engle
Notes by A. L. Lloyd and The Oldham Tinkers
Re-released by © PIER RECORDS 1999 under licence from TOPIC RECORDS, England.
BBC Broadcaster Andy Kershaw put this CD together with the help of PIER RECORDS on an album entitled A FINE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN, The Best of the Topic Years. PIERCD 501
Album: BEST O’T’ BUNCH 12TS237 STEREO
Recorded at Livingstone Studios
Produced by Tony Engle
Notes by A. L. Lloyd and The Oldham Tinkers
Re-released by © PIER RECORDS 1999 under licence from TOPIC RECORDS, England.
BBC Broadcaster Andy Kershaw put this CD together with the help of PIER RECORDS on an album entitled A FINE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN, The Best of the Topic Years. PIERCD 501