Radiorails
master brummie
This, I guess, is still very appropriate today although written in 1828 almost 200 years ago!
I Can't Find Brummagem
(James Dobbs)
Full twenty years and more are passed
Since I left Brummagem.
But I set out for home at last
To good old Brummagem.
But ev'ry place is altered so
Now there's hardly a place I know
Which fills my heart with grief and woe
For I can't find Brummagem.
As I was walking down the street
As used to be in Brummagem,
I knowed nobody I did meet
For they've changed their face in Brummagem
Poor old Spiceal Stret's half gone,
And Old Church stands alone
And poor old I stands here to groan
For I can't find Brummagem.
But amongst the changes we have got
In good old Brummagem
They've made a market on the moat
To sell the pigs in Brummagem.
But that has brought us more ill luck
For they've filled up Pudding Brook,
Where in the brook jack-bannils took
Near Good old Brummagem.
But what's more melancholy still,
For poor old Brummagem,
They've taken away all Newhall-Hill
From poor old Brummagem,
At Easter time girls fair and brown,
Came rolly-polly down,
And showed their legs to half the town,
Oh! the good old sights in Brummagem.
Down Peck Lane I walked along,
To find out Brummagem,
There was the dungil down and gone
What? no rogues in Brummagem,
They've ta'en it to a street called Moor,
A sign that rogues ain't fewer,
But rogues won't like it there I'm sure,
While Peck Lane's in Brummagem.
I remember one John Growse,
Who buckles made in Brummagem,
He built himself a country house,
To be out of the smoke of Brummagem
But though John's country house stands still,
The town has walked up hill,
Now he lives besidea smoky mill,
In the middle of Brummagem.
Among the changes that abound
In good old Brummagem,
May trade and happiness be found
In good old Brummagem.
And tho' no Newhall hil we've got
Nor Pudding Brook nor Moat,
May we always have enough
To boil the pot in Brummagem.
From Victoria's Inferno, Raven
Written by James Dobbs (1781-1837)
I Can't Find Brummagem
(James Dobbs)
Full twenty years and more are passed
Since I left Brummagem.
But I set out for home at last
To good old Brummagem.
But ev'ry place is altered so
Now there's hardly a place I know
Which fills my heart with grief and woe
For I can't find Brummagem.
As I was walking down the street
As used to be in Brummagem,
I knowed nobody I did meet
For they've changed their face in Brummagem
Poor old Spiceal Stret's half gone,
And Old Church stands alone
And poor old I stands here to groan
For I can't find Brummagem.
But amongst the changes we have got
In good old Brummagem
They've made a market on the moat
To sell the pigs in Brummagem.
But that has brought us more ill luck
For they've filled up Pudding Brook,
Where in the brook jack-bannils took
Near Good old Brummagem.
But what's more melancholy still,
For poor old Brummagem,
They've taken away all Newhall-Hill
From poor old Brummagem,
At Easter time girls fair and brown,
Came rolly-polly down,
And showed their legs to half the town,
Oh! the good old sights in Brummagem.
Down Peck Lane I walked along,
To find out Brummagem,
There was the dungil down and gone
What? no rogues in Brummagem,
They've ta'en it to a street called Moor,
A sign that rogues ain't fewer,
But rogues won't like it there I'm sure,
While Peck Lane's in Brummagem.
I remember one John Growse,
Who buckles made in Brummagem,
He built himself a country house,
To be out of the smoke of Brummagem
But though John's country house stands still,
The town has walked up hill,
Now he lives besidea smoky mill,
In the middle of Brummagem.
Among the changes that abound
In good old Brummagem,
May trade and happiness be found
In good old Brummagem.
And tho' no Newhall hil we've got
Nor Pudding Brook nor Moat,
May we always have enough
To boil the pot in Brummagem.
From Victoria's Inferno, Raven
Written by James Dobbs (1781-1837)
