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Tom Barker
Joondalup, Australia

Dick Turpin wer a luvley lad,
app’n not tu bright.
‘e liked to go aht robbin folk,
on a balmy moonlit night

It wer on wun occasion,
wen a stage coach did approach,
Accompanied by ‘is two mates,
on it’s passage they did encroach.

The coach pulled up a bit sharpish,
wen Dick pranced ah’t from’t trees,
An’ wen‘t coach wer ‘alted,
yu cud ‘ear them ‘ossis weeze.

Dick snapped aht an order
“Nah all of yus dahn ont grahnd!
‘Cos app’n ah’m goin’ t’ rob yus,
an’ all ‘t blokes be bahnd.”

Dick’s mates sed, in unison,
“App’n, that’s‘t wrong road rahnd.
We should be robbin’ all‘t men,
an’t wimmin should be bahnd”.

Then a ‘and extended frum‘t coach
and a voice loudly hissed.
“You leave Mr Turpin alone!”
an’ ‘t ‘and dropped at‘t wrist.

“Ooh’er.” said Dick an’ wi’ a leer
on spinning spurs he scurried,
App’n ‘t robbery wus forgot
an’ both Dick’s mates wus worried.

‘Cos Dick reet quick as lickerty split,
into that coach did run,
But alas alack he wus undun
‘cos he were faced wi’ a great big gun.

Well it came to pass that Dick got bold
An’ ‘ e over stepped ‘t mark,
'Cos folk got reet fed up;
gettin’ held up in ‘t dark.

It wern’t as if he cudn’t werk
or wus mebbies sick or summat.
But they stuck a noose rahnd ‘is neck,
an’ inter the abyss ‘e did plummet.

But Dick ‘ad ‘ad ‘’is fun ah meen,
‘eed bin seen wi’ all the gells,
An’ app’n ‘e ‘ad lived it up a bit
afore finishin’ up in cowd cells.

App’n it ‘ave bin a bit dif’rent
if ‘e’d fahnd anuther line o’ work,
Instead o’ trimmin’ a gibbet,
on t’ outskirts o’ York.

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