Cushie Butterfield
I'm a broken-hearted keel-man, what's ower heed in love
With a young lass from Gateshead and I call her my dove
Her name's Cushie Butterfield and she sells yellow clay
And her cousin's a muck-man and they call him Tom Grey
She's a big lass and a bonnie lass
And she likes her beer
And they call her Cushie Butterfield
And I wish she was here
Her eyes is like two holes in a blanket burnt through
And her broos of a morning would spyen a young coo
And when I hear her shootin', will ye buy any clay?
Like a candyman's trumpet, it steals my young heart away
She's a big lass and a bonnie lass
And she likes her beer
And they call her Cushie Butterfield
And I wish she was here
You'll oft see her doon at Sandgate when the fresh herring comes in
She's like a bag full of sawdust, tied roon' with a string
She wears big galoshes tae, and her stocking's once was white
And her bedgoon it's lilac and her hat's never straight
She's a big lass and a bonnie lass
And she likes her beer
And they call her Cushie Butterfield
And I wish she was here
When I asked her to marry us, she started to laugh
No, none of your monkey tricks for I like nae such chaff
Then she started a-bubbling and roared like a bull
And the chaps on the Quay says I's nowt but a fool
She's a big lass and a bonnie lass
And she likes her beer
And they call her Cushie Butterfield
And I wish she was here
She says, the man that gets us he had te work every day
And when he comes hyem at neet he'll have te gan and seek clay
And when he's away seekin' it I'll make balls and sing
Oh weel may the keel row that my laddie's in
She's a big lass and a bonnie lass
And she likes her beer
And they call her Cushie Butterfield
And I wish, I wish, I wish
I wish she was here
With a young lass from Gateshead and I call her my dove
Her name's Cushie Butterfield and she sells yellow clay
And her cousin's a muck-man and they call him Tom Grey
She's a big lass and a bonnie lass
And she likes her beer
And they call her Cushie Butterfield
And I wish she was here
Her eyes is like two holes in a blanket burnt through
And her broos of a morning would spyen a young coo
And when I hear her shootin', will ye buy any clay?
Like a candyman's trumpet, it steals my young heart away
She's a big lass and a bonnie lass
And she likes her beer
And they call her Cushie Butterfield
And I wish she was here
You'll oft see her doon at Sandgate when the fresh herring comes in
She's like a bag full of sawdust, tied roon' with a string
She wears big galoshes tae, and her stocking's once was white
And her bedgoon it's lilac and her hat's never straight
She's a big lass and a bonnie lass
And she likes her beer
And they call her Cushie Butterfield
And I wish she was here
When I asked her to marry us, she started to laugh
No, none of your monkey tricks for I like nae such chaff
Then she started a-bubbling and roared like a bull
And the chaps on the Quay says I's nowt but a fool
She's a big lass and a bonnie lass
And she likes her beer
And they call her Cushie Butterfield
And I wish she was here
She says, the man that gets us he had te work every day
And when he comes hyem at neet he'll have te gan and seek clay
And when he's away seekin' it I'll make balls and sing
Oh weel may the keel row that my laddie's in
She's a big lass and a bonnie lass
And she likes her beer
And they call her Cushie Butterfield
And I wish, I wish, I wish
I wish she was here
Credits
Writer(s): Traditional, David Peter Haslam
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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