Thur wiz plester sockin weet all ower e pleyss,
Carpet squelched ablow ma feet, oh fit a meyss,
Lookin up ah saw ey sky,
Through e rafters richt up high,
Fit a bonny meyss id left, yin bloomin rain.

Ah set off for a shiffle an a brush,
Rolled ma sleeves up cleaned id all athoot a fuss,
We've a fancy "Aqua'Vac",
Beelt for trouble shoot attack,
Sooks up water too, wid clear yin bloomin rain.

Boot id chocked on plester, widna sook at all,
Turned id off, stuff shot oot richt across e wall,
Ah'd no choice boot start anew,
Cursed an swore till air turned blue,
Fit a trouble id all caused, yin bloomin rain.

In e end ah got id tidied o a fashion,
Sat an 'oor an then ah thocht "E rain's choost lashin,"
Dreeps were fallin wi a splash,
Then ma teeth began till gnash,
Swore they'd sent id till tormet me, bloomin rain.