My mother sent me to the school,
To learn to be a stocking-knitter,
But I went wrang and play'd the fule,
And married with a shoemakker.
Shoemakker, leather cracker,
With all his stinking, dirty water,
I wish a thousand deaths I'd died
Ere I had wed a shoemakker.

His hands are like a cuddy's houghs,
His face is like the the high-lowed leather,
His ears are like I don't know what
His hair is like a bunch of heather.
Stinking kit and rotten leather,
I wish a thousand deaths I'd died
Ere I had wed a shoemakker.

He sent me for a pint of wine,
And I brought him a pint o' water,
But he played me as good a trick,
He made my shoes o' rotten leather.
Shoemakker, leather cracker,
Three rows o' rotten leather,
Ball o' wax and stinking water,
Who would have a shoemakker.


abc | midi | pdf

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Source: Bruce and Stokoe, Northumbrian Minstrelsy, Newcastle-Upon Tyne, 1882 (reissued Llanerch)

Notes:


Roud: 3152 (Search Roud index at VWML)
Laws:
Child: