That night I met my Elsie Bell by Daddy Longleg's Bed.
My heart still cherished from the night before the words she'd said.
She'd said she loved me dearly and to me would cling for aye,
Like the crimson clouds to Winter Hill as the sun dipped in the sky.
She nineteen years, I twenty-one, had trod for just one year
The hills were o'ft, the curlew's cry falls shrill upon the ear.
And many a tale I'd told my love as we'd strolled through Tandle Hills
And we'd often gazed at galaxies, of night-locked cotton mills.
That night as I approached my love with eager outstretched hand,
Her eye's shone glazed and fathomless like any lake becalmed.
I asked her if she loved me, she n'er answered aye nor nay,
But raised her pretty head aloft, and unto me did say.
"My love for you was but a whim of childhood fancy free.
I'm much matured since yesterday, and now more clearly see.
My parents tell me that you're not fit to share my bed.
So to a finer, richer man in Autumn I'll be wed."
In shock the slopes of Oldham Edge I started to descend.
My eyes brimful of salty tears my way to town I did wend.
What could I do to cure the grief; the pain in my heart to ease?
I went into a chip shop on Barker Street and had pudding, chips and peas.