The Crockery Ware

Well a laddy in Lincolnshire did dwell
Courted of a fine young girl
He asked her a favour one fine night
If he could sleep with her till light

In our town there lived a man
And he courted a girl both fine and young
He asked her for one favour bright
That he might sleep with her that night

Chorus (after each verse):

Right fol the ridey ro
Right fol the ridey ro

Chorus (after each verse):

Right-whack-fordle-diddy-i-do-day

Well straightaway she gave consent
Straightaway upstairs they went
She placed him in a great big chair
And there underneath was the crockery ware

Now this young girl she did contrive
To fix a joke on him that night
Behind the door she placed a chair
And on it she put the crockery ware

Well Johnny went groping in the dark
Thinking he was up to a lark
He blundered up against that bloody great chair
And arse over head went the crockery ware

Now this young man he got up in the night
And was thinking to find his heart's delight
He cracked his shins all against the chair
And he tumbled into the crockery ware

Well the old girl woke up in a fright
Shouting out for the candle light
“Oh who goes there? I do declare
A-breaking of my crockery ware”

Now the old woman rose in a terrible fright
And she came upstairs with the candle light
She says “Young man how came you here?
Capsizing of my crockery ware”

Well the damsel in her bed was laid
A-laughing at this game she'd played
“Oh it's all right, John, I do declare
If you pay my mother for the crockery ware”

This Betsy lay in the very next room
And she's laughing at the game going on
She said “Young man, I do declare
You must pay my mother for the crockery ware”

So early in the morning the bill was paid
And on the table it was laid
It was ten bob for that bloody old chair
And two pound ten for the crockery ware

The police were sent for without delay
To see what this young man should pay
He's paid three shillings for the crockery ware
And five pound ten for the damned old chair

So all you lads who's up to a lark
Never go a-courting in the dark
For if you do I do declare
You'll pay bloody dear for the crockery ware