A Black Country Ode

Theres a place I know

Called the Black Country, see

Its stretches to Stourbridge

Up to Walsall in the North

We often get confused

With our cousin the Brummie

But the accent is different

Where else in the World

Would you get to be called yampey

The people are proud, friendly and warm

But don’t upset the old lady

Or you’ll end up in a brawl

The pubs they are full

Of colourful characters

All with tall stories

Of legend and woe

The women are pretty

But don’t upset your wench

Cos if you do

Your life won’t be worth living, and

Her brothers will seek

A suitable recompense

Yes the Black Country is different

But it’s the place we call home

We’re proud of our heritage

The factories and furnaces

The canals and the industry

We were built on hard work

And even harder play

On a Saturday night

Everyone comes out to play

There’s the darts and there’s football

And betting on slow osses

Dancing and drinking as we

Try to score with the wenches

The Black Country is wrong

On so many levels

But like I said it’s our home

Of which we’re rightly proud

I just thought I’d say