Friday, 3 June 2011

Hymn for a Northern Dad

Bus Driver, Preacher and Engineer.
Never showed “a morsel of fear”.
Loved his wife for many a year.
Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad.

Sturdy, like the English oak
He can fix anything that’s broke
Still cracking the same old jokes.
Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad

Mum was queen, he was the king.
Has an opinion on EVERYTHING.
Taught me what it means to sing.
Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad

Gave me a craving for sweets and sugar.
On occassions a stubborn bugger.
Typical northerner (not a big hugger)
Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad.

He’s a fortress of northern pride.
Walks the moors with a manly stride
Never calls, unless someone’s died
Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad.

Always one for talking straight.
Eh up son, have you put on weight?
Ruled the roost like a potentate
Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad.

Won’t give houseroom to cress or rocket
Uses terms like flange and sprocket
Keeps his wallet in his pocket
Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad.

He drinks life from a cup, full to the brim
Has never once been near a gym
I’m proud to say I bloody love him
Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad.

A veteran of good old Music hall days
And though he has some funny ways
This is my fervent hymn of praise
Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad.

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