Folk and Traditional Song Lyrics:
Lambton Worm

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The Lambton Worm

The Lambton Worm

One Sunday morn young Lambton went
A-fishing' in the Wear;
An' catched a fish upon he's heuk,
He thowt leuk't varry queer.
But whatt'n a kind of fish it was
Young Lambton cuddent tell.
He waddn't fash te carry'd hyem,
So he hoyed it doon a well.

cho: Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs,
     An Aa'll tell ye's aall an aaful story
     Whisht! Lads, haad yor gobs,
     An' Aa'll tell ye  'boot the worm.

Noo Lambton felt inclined te gan
An' fight i' foreign wars.
he joined a troop o' Knights that cared
For nowther woonds nor scars,
An' off he went te Palestine
Where queer things him befel,
An' varry seun forgat aboot
The queer worm i' the well.

But the worm got fat an' growed and' growed
An' growed an aaful size;
He'd greet big teeth, a greet big gob,
An' greet big goggle eyes.
An' when at neets he craaled aboot
Te pick up bits o' news,
If he felt dry upon the road,
He milked a dozen coos.

This feorful worm wad often feed
On caalves an' lambs an' sheep,
An' swally little barins alive
When they laid doon te sleep.
An' when he'd eaten aall he cud
An' he had had he's fill,
He craaled away an' lapped he's tail
Seven times roond Pensher Hill.

The news of this myest aaful worm
An' his queer gannins on
Seun crossed the seas, gat te the ears
Ov brave and' bowld Sor John.
So hyem he cam an' catched the beast
An' cut 'im in twe haalves,
An' that seun stopped he's eatin' bairns,
An' sheep an' lambs and caalves.

So noo ye knaa hoo aall the foaks
On byeth sides ov the Wear
Lost lots o' sheep an' lots o' sleep
An' leeved i' mortal feor.
So let's hev one te brave Sor John
That kept the bairns frae harm,
Saved coos an' caalves by myekin' haalves
O' the famis Lambton Worm.

             Final Chorus

Noo lads, Aa'll haad me gob,
That's aall Aa knaa aboot the story
Ov Sor John's clivvor job
Wi' the aaful Lambton Worm.

note: My young son at six (2 years ago)  used to love to sing this song as
learned in his primary school (Allendale, Northumberland).  Apparently,
though this may be an apochryphal interpretation, the song refers to
taxation, a tax that Lord Lambton first invented, then dramatically reduced
because of the economic hardship it was causing.  The sting in the tail of
this story, however, is that the Lambton Memorial, seen from all around
Sunderland, was supposedly erected by subscription from grateful tax-payers
-- when Lord Lambton realised that there was money available for this sort
of subscription, he raised the taxes again, and so the memorial was never
completed.  LW

---------------------------------------------------------------

LW
                                                 apr96
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