Don’t Knock Wath, Cock

Don’t knock Wath cock, don’t knock Wath
There’s always people who want to knock Wath
Mardy-arsed knockers, trying to put the mockers
On anything positive, progress blockers
With long faces – some of them are shockers
With language worse than Darfield dockers

Don’t knock Wath cock, don’t knock Wath
There’s always people who want to knock Wath
Moaning and mingeing, mumping all day
Wath? ‘bloody rubbish’ is all they can say
Like they’re reading some mind-forged autocue
And they can’t give credit where credit is due

Always knocking, with the miserablest frown
Knocking Wath and pulling it down
Never got the tiniest good word
For something seen or anything heard
Never acknowledge, never recognise
A place only ‘reightens’ itself if it tries

‘Wath town centre’ they’ll drone, ‘it’s dead’
Then you’ll see ‘em in Tesco buying their bread
And their fruit, and veg, and meat, and milk
Shampoo, cosmetics and stuff of that ilk
Piled so high it could buy and sell
The whole centre of Wath and Netto as well
‘It’s easier to park,’ they’ll splutter and spout
When sometimes you can’t get in or out!
Sometimes the Tesco effect is so profound
You can meet your own shadow coming back around

But let’s hear it now for the Hospice Shop
Yes the Hospice shop, Wath Hospice shop
You might come close but you never will top
The women of the Wath on Dearne Hospice shop
The women of the Wath on Dearne Hospice shop
The women of the Wath on Dearne Hospice shop

Something needed? Something lost?
Get in there and at half the cost
Of anywhere else, be in no doubt
They’ll fix you up and sort you out
In the Hospice shop, Wath Hospice shop
The women of the Wath on Dearne Hospice shop
If your cup no longer floweth over
If you need a scarf or a striped pullover
A set of spoons or a fork and knife
A birthday present for husband or wife
A cushion cover or a table cloth
There’s everything there at the heart of Wath

Three piece suites and three piece suits
Reading glasses or riding boots
Shirts and dresses by the sumptuous score
Whatever you want, they’ve got it, and more
At the not-to-be bested Wath Hospice shop
In the Hospice shop, Wath Hospice shop
Whose volunteers are the cream of the crop
Volunteers! Yes! they do it for nothing
And that’s the bottom line of all my Wathing
But hold on, that’s wrong, it’s not for nothing
The very thought will set them all frothing

It’s far from nothing, it’s the finest cause
(with Bluebell Wood) pause for applause
The finest cause the town can claim
Its lack of proper funding’s a scandal and shame
But it’s all the more glory to the volunteers
Who’ve given their weeks, and months, and years
To build and sustain this priceless thing
It’s enough to make an old Parkgater sing
And while we’re at it and going pell mell
Here’s to the Partnership as well!

But there’s always knockers, trying to put the mockers
On anything positive, lifeboat rockers
Well they’re ‘trying’ all right, but I’d be lying
If I said they were trying like some others are trying
Not knocking Wath cock, but talking it up
Praising it up, even writing it up

Making Wath a place to live up to
Getting involved, and any group’ll do
That’s making a difference, ‘cos any amount
Of energy you give, if you make it count
Can bring about changes however small
And that’s what I’m here to say to you all

Don’t be a knocker be a talker upper
Don’t be a knocker be a talker upper
You can still enjoy a cuppa, or be a beer-supper
But don’t be a knocker, be a talker upper
There’s plenty of people who want to knock Wath
Some are loud in their vehemence and vocal in their wrath
But don’t be a knocker be a talker upper
Be a talker upper or writer upper
Be a listener upper and a singer upper
Be a speaker upper, be a cheerer upper
Even in the scuppers be an on-the-way upper
Be a ‘git on upper,’ be a wrapper upper

Don’t be a knocker be a talker upper

In fact, why do you feel the need to be a knocker at all cocker?

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