Our night at the Opry

We went to the opry last night,
‘Twere a grand and a costly affair;
Our Jim lost an arm an’ I lost a leg
Just for parkin’ our charabanc there.

Jim’s wife were garbed in pure finery;
‘Twere real stylish but faced wi’ old habit,
She’d covered her neck with the fur of a fox
Which our Mary insisted were rabbit.

Jim an’ I were dressed to our nines,
With moi in me best bib an’ tucker,
But the cleavage on Mary’s calico dress
Made me want to leap up an’ just hug ‘er.

As we entered the main auditorium,
The feelin’ of pride were immense;
This ‘ere place were paid by our taxes,
All our ‘ard earned dollars an’ cents.

Till we come to the price of the programme,
An’ I couldn’t get over the shock;
Ten bucks for a bundle of paper
With some tale of a gent in a frock!

But the opry were grand an’ real fancy,
‘Bout an ‘unchback whose daughter had strayed;
Understood every bit o’ the music,
Though the words were real strange, I’m afraid.

The music were written by Verdi,
Which is foreign for green I’ve been told;
An’ the singers were ever so marvellous
Though the tenor were sufferin’ from cold.

At ‘alf-time there’s no blast of the whistle,
Just a titter an’ a bit of applause;
But the champers were much too expensive
So we settled for tea an’ four straws.

When the curtain comes down at the end,
Dead people all come back to life;
‘Twere quite funny to see living corpses
Who much earlier’d been stabbed with a knife.

We found our way to the charabancs,
And whistling the tunes we just ‘eard.
Jim attempted to sing their entir’ty,
Which turned out to be truly absurd.

We got ‘ome and the children were oop,
Their excitement were reaching great heights,
Convulsing at men wearing dresses
While women wore fanciful tights.

By now I were feeling romantic,
I hurried myself into bed,
But Mary were tired or summat,
So I watched the ol’ telly instead.

Randolph Magri-Overend

Best to be read aloud with a broad Yorkshire accent