Oy zid a gurt bug oss
A-squttering dun thu strit
'Im ad no royder on iz back
An no zhus upun iz vit
"Vetch thic bugger 'ere Ol' Butt,
Im'z one ov Gyp Zmith's lot"
Zo we ran afer thic damn 'oss
As vast as uz kids couldst
Thic 'oss 'im did squitter vast
We coudtn't ketch 'im avore im vell
Doown thic spwile yup to iz dyuth
Poor awld Zmithy, 'im did yell
"Ztupid bloody 'oss, now I girt sod all te flog
The missuz er will do er nut, I yunt gwain wum O'ell"
The bwoys they did tuk im, to the rizing zun
t' drunk wi zider is sorrers dip
An left im in awld Soudley Bruk so he couldst av a kip.
Ne'r in Vorest were 'im zin agyun
His caravan were up and gyon
Lazt zin 'eading Chepstow way
The missuz drivin', wi 'im running on.
Translation
I saw a great big horse
Running down the street
He had not rider on his back
And no shoes upon his feet
"Fetch that bugger here old friend
He's one of Gyp Smith's lot"
So we ran after that damn horse
As fast as us kids could
That horse he did run so fast
We couldn't catch him before he fell
Down that spoil heap to his death
Poor old Smithy, him did yell
"Stupid Bloody Horse now I got sod all to sell
The Mrs, her will do her nut, I'm not going home..oh Hell"
The boys they did take him, to the Rising Sun
To drown with cider his sorrows deep
And left him in ols Soudley Brook so he could have a sleep
Never in the Forest were him seen again
His caravan was up and gone
Last seen heading Chepstow Way
His Mrs driving, with him running on.
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