Wigan Dialect

A Collection of Lancashire Dialect Poems, Phrases & Sayings from around the Wigan Area.



Miss'in Th'owd Cock
Play MP3
Miss'in Th'owd Cock

"Wot's up we yo mother.
As summut geet yo deawn.
Yo favver yuv font a thrip'ny bit
Un lost an hay'f er creawn"


"Am just sut ere on mi own
Think'in abeawt thowd lad.
Aay.. Aah wish thowd cock were ere neaw.
Then things would'nt seem so bad.

Aah used gerr on at im, tha knows.
For breyk'in wind un stink'in.
Aah'd gee owt neaw, fot hear im fart.
Un aah would'nt mind im drink'in.

Aah'd luv be tuck'in his shart lap in his drawers.
Un mek'in sure his fly was done up.
Un tak'in him bed when he geet wom at neet.
Aw them times he'd ter much fot sup.

Aah would'nt complain abeawt muck on his lap
Or't snot that was aw deawn his sleeve.
Or in't latter days when he pee'd deawn his leg.
Aah just wish't thar he did'nt at leave.


Aah wish't he was here we us neaw.
Un then aah could kiss his bawd yed.
Aw't things aah wish't ad er towd im.
But neaw …. it's too late fot bi said.

It dun't seem two tics sin he popped his clogs
Laah'k Darby un Joan we used fot be.
Un neaw…when aah think abeawt thowd lad.
Aah wish the Lord er'd tak me.

Neaw, come on mother,buck yo'sel up.
Dwell'in on it's beawnt be upsett'in
Un yo know just wot mi fayther er'd sey.
Neaw, Esther, thee stop thi frett'in.

He would'nt waant yo sut abeawt mope'in.
Yo know just worr he'd say.
Come on ar Ace. Gerr off thi arse.
Un make us a nice cup er tay.

Missing the old Cock (Translation)

"Whats up we you mother.
As something got you down.
You look like you've found a threepenny bit
And lost a half a crown".


"I'm just sat here on my own
Thinking about the old lad.
I wish the old cock was here now.
Then things would'nt seem so bad.

I used to get on at him, you know.
For breaking wind and stinking.
I would give anything now, to hear him fart.
And I would'nt mind him drinking.

I'd love to be tucking his shirt lap in his drawers.
And making sure his fly was done up.
And taking him to bed when he got home at night.
All them times he'd had too much to sup.

I would'nt complain about muck on his lap
Or the snot that was all down his sleeve.
Or in the latter days when he pee'd down his leg.
I just wish he did'nt have to leave.


I wish he was here with us now.
And then I could kiss his bald head.
All the things I wish I'd have told him.
But now it's too late to be said.

It does'nt seem two minutes since he popped his clogs
Like Darby and Joan we used to be.
And now…when I think about the old lad.
I wish the Lord would take me.

Now, come on mother, buck yourself up.
Dwelling on it is bound to be upsetting
And you know just what my father would say.
Now, Esther, you stop your fretting.

He would'nt want you sat here moping.
You know just what he'd say.
Come on our Ace. Get off your arse.
And make us a nice cup of tay.

Copyright © 1998 Jeff Unsworth wigandialect.co.uk