Lyrics

I'm a four loom weaver, as many a man knows I've nowt to eat and I've worn out m' clothes M' clogs are all broken, and stockings I've none Thee'd hardly gi's tuppence for all I've gotten on Old Billy O' Bent, he were telling us long We mayn't had better times if I'd nobbut held m' tongue Well, I held m' tongue til I near lost m' breath And I feel in m' hear that I'II soon clem to death I'm a four loom weaver, as many a man knows I've nowt to eat and I've worn out m' clothes Old Billy were right, but he ne'er were clemmed He ne'er picked o'er in his liie We held out for six weeks, thought each day were the last We tarried and shifted til we were quite fast We lived upon nettles while nettles were good And Waterloo Porridge were best to us (as) food Our Margaret declares, if hoo'd clothes to put on Hoo'd go up t' London and see the great man And if things didn' alter when there hoo'd been Hoo' swears hoo'd fight til there blood up to th' e'en I'm a four loom weaver as many a man knows I've nowt to eat and I've worn out m' clothes Stockings I've none, nor looms to weave on I've woven m'sen to far end