The fact that I have no memory means that I cannot often perform Recitations, like the one below, without either written notes or idiot boards.  Thankfully, no-one seems to mind.
I like to do this one in a North Yorkshire accent, as a form of tribute to that most wonderful and talented of Recitation artists, Stanley Holloway; but I often do it Mancunian voice.
Non-British readers will know Stanley Holloway only as the father of Eliza Doolittle, in My Fair Lady ("I'm getting married in the morning" in a London accent -- go figure); which vehicle gave him piteously little scope to demonstrate his incredible talent and irresistible wit.

I have had numerous requests -- mainly from Americans who won't know the accent, anyway -- to do a phonetic version of the piece; so here it is!

 Glossary:  Guildhall = City Hall   Loo = Toilet   Shite = Figure it out! 


T'Perfic' Weddun'

I got lost on t'way to t'churchyard
I din't know where I maight bee
T'crowds in t'town
were all millin' around
and nobody cared about me

I finally found a policeman
and pleaded for 'elp in despair
'e said "D'you know the Guildhall?'
I said "No, norra tall."
'e said "Good, 'cause it's nowhere near there"

'e sent me off down past t'railwey
Norra naice plaice for a stroell
...Then t'world went all black
I were flat on me back
T'wrong side of a bloody man-'oell

It were dark
It were wet
It were smelleh
I were lyin' in some kind o'stew
I were soaked to t'skin
liquid lumpy but thin
And then someone up top flushed t'loo

Me left shoe din't wanna come wi'me
Sommat squidgey and slick in me raight
I could not see too well
In this dim and dank 'ell
But me taste buds were workin' arraight....

...When me stomach were finally empty
I looked for a way t'gerrout
There were no ladder there
leadin' up to the air
And nobody could 'ear me shout

So I yelled an' I screamed an' I 'ollered
But nobody answered me calls
I were flounderin' around
When I 'eard a faint sound
Echoin' offa the walls

I coon't tell what t'sound 'ad been made bai
Or from where it were issuin' forth
I struck out to the East
Or I think so, at least
But it could'a been South, West or North

Or South-West or North-east, 'ow should Ah know?
Or in circles, arownd and arownd
Though I didn't get nearer
T'noise still got clearer
As though someone 'ad turned up the sound

And then, at t'end of t'tunnel
I spotted a glimmer of laight
I 'oped it were the street
I 'ad people to meet
...Even if I were covered wi'shite

So I ran an' I splashed and I gambolled
Rushin' along on tharr'eadin'
I knew I couldn't falter
...'ad to get to the alter
I couldn't be late for me weddin'!

When I reached it, I stopped in amaizement
Wonderin' if it were real
I looked all about
It were norra way out
And the walls were all made outta steel!

A big door on t'left would not oepen
And I 'ad no way to unlock it
As to where I might be
My suspicions told me
I were inside a bleedin' great rocket!

Two men in strange suits come beyind mih
Started fillin' up sacks wi'the crap
They were pilin' 'em 'igh
I din't care why
If it meant a way out o'that trap!

I asked what the 'ell they were doin'
They explained as I sat on a sack
Some Mid-Eastern chap
'ad been gi'in' 'em crap
So they'd decided to send 'im some back!

Then their boss, 'e came down wi'some papers
And forced me t'sign an escaepe
Then they gave me a raide
To the church, and me braide
All bound up in official red taype

If I told anyone wharr'ad 'appened
They'ud put me in prison for laife!
But there's worse -- 'eaven knows!
I looked down at me clothes
What the 'ell could I say to the waife?


You have just been subjected to a page from

This page and all original content and all local pages linked to and all their original content are copyright © 1997-2023 by Mark Wallace unless specifically stated otherwise.
All Rights Reserved.