One Sunday mornin' Lambton went A-fishing in the Wear; An' catched a fish upon he’s heuk He thowt leuk’t vary queer. But whatt’n a kind ov fish it was Young Lambton cudden’t tell- He waddn’t fash te carry’d hyem, So he hoyed it doon a well
Chorus Whisht! lads, haad yor gobs, An' aa’ll tell ye aall an aaful story, Whisht! lads, haad yor gobs, An' Aa’ll tel ye 'boot the worm. Noo Lambton felt inclined te gan An' fight i' foreign wars. He joined a troop ov Knights that cared For nowther woonds nor scars, An' off he went te Palestine Where queer things him befel, An varry seun forgat aboot The queer worm i' tha well.
But the worm got fat an' grewed an' grewed, An' grewed an aaful size; He’d greet big teeth, a greet big gob, An greet big goggly eyes. An' when at neets he craaled aboot Te pick up bits o' news, If he felt dry upon the road, He’d milk a dozen coos. This feorful worm would often feed On caalves an' lambs an' sheep, An' swally little bairns alive When they laid doon te sleep. An when he’d eaten aall he cud An' he had had he’s fill, He craaled away an' lapped he’s tail Ten times roond Pensha Hill. The news ov this myest aaful worm An' his queer gannins on Seun crossed the seas, gat te the ears Ov brave an' bowld Sor John. So hyem he cam an' catched the beast, An' cut 'im in twe haalves, An' that seun stopped hes eatin' bairns An' sheep an' lambs an' caalves. So noo ye knaa hoo aall the foaks On byeth sides ov the Wear Lost lots o' sheep an' lots o' sleep An leeved i' mortal feor. So let’s hev one te brave Sor John That kept the bairns frae harm, Saved coos an' calves by myekin' haalves O' the famis Lambton Worm.