Cpl. Kipper's Barnsley Trades Club Turn (2010 original version)

by The Bar-Steward Sons of Val Doonican

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about

This is the album that marked the change in direction from straight cover-versions on folk instruments, to a more comical and original approach.

Cpl Kipper became The Bar-Steward Sons' very own Sgt Pepper-styled concept album, all about their home tarn of Barnsley. The album cover features a veritable 'Who's Who' of celebrities from or connected with Barnsley. Featuring a significant amount of the band's own material to other people's tunes, and a few cover versions, including Barnsley metal legends Saxon's 'Strong Arm Of The Law', it marks a more comedic change in direction to the band's previous back-catalogue.

The album is also special as it marks Alan Doonican's vocal debut on 'No Fillin' In Me Pie', a song which highlights the dangers of going to the butty van and being ripped-off under the Trades Descriptions Act.

The band were also pleased to get by with a little help from their friends. The mighty Richard Kitson played the steel 'Barnsley Feightin' Geetar' and 'gob iron' on 'Wath On-Dearne Blues'; Barnsley Mick MC's on 'Tarnlife'; founder-member of Saxon, Graham Oliver, plays the Geetar-Hero solo on 'Strong Arm Of The Law'; The Barnsley Met Band played brass on 'The Bar-Stewards Come Home', and 'The Devil Went Darn To Barnsley' features duelling washboard solos from Satan Prince of Hell and local hero The Reverend Billy Casper!
Big shout-outs to all of them for their excellent contributions.

credits

released January 29, 2011

Scott Doonican:
Vocals, Geetar, Banjo, Ukulele, Bass, Mandolin, Melodica, Piano, Keyboards, Washboard, Kazoo Orchestra, Pots & Pans and owt else!
Alan Doonican:
Piano, Accordion, Vocals and Beard
Danny Doonican:
Vocals, Sarcasm and Tram-Spotting

with
Richard Kitson:
Barnsley Feighting Geetar & Gob Iron on Wath-On-Dearne Blues
Barnsley Mick:
Spoken Word Vocals on Tarnlife
Graham Oliver:
Geetar Hero Solo on Strong Arm Of The Law
Amanda White:
Spoken Word Vocals on The Bar-Stewards Come Home
The Devil & Billy Casper:
Vocals/Washboard Solos on The Devil Went Darn To Barnsley
Barnsley Met Band (conducted and arranged by Alex Francis):
Brass Band On The Bar-Stewards Come Home

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about

The Bar-Steward Sons of Val Doonican UK

Hailing from Barnsley Rock City in't north, The Bar-Steward Sons of Val Doonican are determined to follow in their father's immortal footsteps. They naturally began to perform other famous people’s songs complete with lyrics about life in't North and to complete their squeaky-clean image, they became instantly recognisable for their immaculate hair and their stylish dress-sense.
EY UP! LET'S GO!
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Track Name: Cpl. Kipper's Barnsley Trades Club Turn
Cpl. Kipper’s Barnsley Trades Club Turn
(Lyrics: S.Doonican - Music: J.Lennon/P.McCartney)

It wor a couple of years ago today - Cpl. Kipper got locked away
And his singing’s never been in style - But he’s guaranteed to raise a smile.
So may I introduce to you - The act you've known for all these years,
Cpl. Kipper's Barnsley Trades Club Turn

It’s Cpl. Kipper's Barnsley Trades Club Turn - the greatest Karaoke King
Cpl. Kipper's Barnsley Trades Club Turn - you’ll love him coz he loves to sing
Cpl. Kipper's Barnsley, Cpl. Kipper's Barnsley,
Cpl. Kipper's Barnsley Trades Club Turn

It's champion to sithee
It certainly is grand
You're such a lovely audience
I love to sing in public - But I can’t coz I’m on remand

I don't really want to stop the show - But I thought you might like to know,
That the lad’s are gonna sing their songs - And we want you all to sing along.
So let me introduce to you - the one and only Bar-Steward Sons
With Cpl. Kipper's Barnsley Trades Club Turn

Dick-ie Bird!
Track Name: Darntarn
Darn Tarn 
(Lyrics: D.Doonican/S.Doonican/A.White - Music: T. Hatch)

Seven o’clock, the taxi’s honkin’ his horn
He’s here to take you there – rand ‘tarn
Your best floral shirt and you’re covered in Brut
And now you’re on your way – rand tarn
You’re thinkin’ ‘bout your big night out and all the classy totty
And drinkin’ half your weight in beer to piss it down the potty
We’ll all be there

The lights are much brighter there
You can forget all your troubles - forget all your cares
When you’re rand ‘tarn
Things’ll be great when you’re rand ‘tarn
You and your mates are off rand ‘tarn
The ladies are waiting for you

Hitting the bars and having too many jars
The lads are art in force – rand ‘tarn
Trying to flirt when you’ve got beer down yer shirt
The ladies aren’t impressed – rand ‘tarn
Girls with skirts that look like belts, and bouncers seeking trouble
“Yer names not darn – you can’t come in – so piss off on the double”
This pavement’s quite hard

Everyone’s a fighter there
You’ve lost all your mates – you’ve got sick in yer hair
And you’re rand ‘tarn
Can’t get in the club, you’re stuck rand ‘tarn
You go for some grub somewhere rand ‘tarn
The kebab-shop is waiting for you

It’s quarter past three and your taking a wee
Against a shop window – rand ‘tarn
Kebab in yer hand – you think it tastes grand
Until you throw it up – on’t ground
You stagger to the taxi rank, your legs they feel like rubber
No money in your wallet, you’re a paralytic bugger
You get in the queue

You’ve not got a single care
You’ll forget your address, lose your taxi fare
When you’re wankered
Everyone stares when you’re wankered
All the girls think you’re a wanker
Nobody cares about you
Track Name: Wath-On-Dearne Blues (feat. Richard Kitson)
Wath On Dearne Blues
(Lyrics: M.Harding - Music: Trad. Arr. BS/VD & Richard Kitson)

Well I Woke up this mornin’, din’t feel reight grand tha knows
I woke up this mornin’, din’t feel reight greatly tha knows
(eee ah wa reight bad)
Got so drunk last neet, fell in love wi a big garden gnome

Well I put me arms around him laid him on the grass
Well I put me arms around him laid him on the grass
(eee by ‘eck dip yer bread lad)
But ah got reight worried when he started kissin’ me back

Tha knows I play all them blues by Blind Lemon Jefferson and Booker T.
Tha knows I play all them blues by Blind Lemon Jefferson and Booker T.
But it sounds like Burt Weedon strangling Gracie Fields

Ah said ah met a lass in Barnsley so I thought I’d tek a chance
Ah said ah met a lass in Barnsley so I thought I’d tek a chance
Ah put Brut in me socks and self-raisin’ flour down me pants

She said “Lad take off thy underpants, I tell thee this is it”
She said “Lad take off thy underpants, I tell thee this is it”
I says “You can tek ‘em off and yer welcome,
But I doubt if they’ll bloody well fit!”

She said “Let’s get some baby oil and tek it up to bed with us”
She said “Let’s get some baby oil and tek it up to bed with us”
Well I drank that baby oil, but it just made me throw up

She said “I want to feel the earth more when tha meks love to me”
She said “I want to feel the earth more when tha meks love to me”
Ah said “At this time of night, where am I going to find a JCB?”
Track Name: When We're Playing Pub Gigs
When We’re Playing Pub Gigs
(Lyrics: S.Doonican - Music: G. Formby / H. Gifford / F.E. Cliffe)

When we go entertaining to earn an honest bob
For a nosy Bar-Steward it’s an interesting job
Now it’s our job and you’d agree - a Bar-Steward Son is fun to be
If you could see the things we see when we’re playing pub gigs

In our profession we will play until you make us stop
We’ll never bother the hit parade or make it to the top

A local bloke – he dun’t look swell - He likes a pint, it’s plain to tell
I bet he’d drink his bath as well - If it was full of Guinness
He staggers drunk – props up the bar - He’s had a few too many jars
He sets off home – he won’t get far - coz he’s chucked-up in his taxi

In our profession we will play until you make us stop
We’ll never bother the hit parade or make it to the top
Friday night – the Big Pub Quiz - The local know-all – he’s the biz
But he didn’t win coz we copied his - answers from his quiz sheet
The Sat’day night Karaoke King - has ten pints then shakes his thing
Thinks he’s James Brown but cannot sing - a note in tune for toffee

In our profession we will play until you make us stop
We’ll never bother the hit parade or make it to the top

Football on the plasma screen - lads gather drunk to cheer their team
“Come on England!” goes the scream - and “The referee’s a wanker!”
While the girls wear belts instead of clothes
If she’s selling those puppies, I suppose
I’ll have the one with the small pink nose
Coz you can’t go blind from looking…

In our profession we will play until you make us stop
We’ll never bother the hit parade or make it to the top

So when we’ve been entertaining to earn an honest bob
For a knackered bar-steward it’s a dead exhausting job
Now it’s quite clear it’s plain to see - I’m not Tom Jones, won’t ever be
Coz they throw pints, not pants at me - when I’m playing up gigs!
But it’s a laugh and you’d agree - a Bar-Steward Son is fun to be
If you could see the things we see when we’re playing pub gigs
Track Name: No Fillin' In Me Pie
No Fillin’ In Me Pie
(Lyrics: D.Doonican - Music: S.Jones)

I nipped to Terry’s butty van for a belly bustin’ treat
There were a picture of a massive pie with half a pound of meat
I parted with me £2.10, t’was cheap at twice the price
But when I cut the crusty top – I couldn’t believe me eyes

Bloody hell mate – Hold the gravy! – There’s no fillin’ in me pie!

I delved around inside the crust to try and find me meat
But all I found were onions and they don’t agree wi’ me
I found a bit of carrot, and half frozen pea
And then to top the bugger off… NO SUGAR IN ME TEA!

Bloody hell mate – Hold the gravy! – There’s no fillin’ in me pie!

I marched back to the butty van – the anger sharks did swim
Slammed the tea upon the counter and I chucked the pie at him
I said “This pie has got no meat – no sugar in me tea”
He said “You want some filling, cock? That’s another 80p”

Bloody hell mate – Hold the gravy! – There’s no fillin’ in me pie!
Track Name: Tarnlife (feat. Barnsley Mick)
Written by Scott Doonican and Amanda White
Track Name: Where Do You Go To My Lovely
Where Do You Go To My Lovely
(Lyrics: S.Doonican / A.Capstick -Music: P.Sarstedt)

You talk like her that played Mandy Dingle
And you dance like a pissed Fred Astaire
Your clothes they are all made by Kappa
And there’s yesterdays soup in your hair (Yes there is, quite a lot)
You live in a shed down in Kendray
Off the Boulevard Hunningley Lane
Where you keep your pigeons and ferrets
And you once cadged a cig from Paul Shane (yes you did)

So where do you go to my lovely – when you’re alone in your shed
Tell me the parts that surround you
I want to look inside your head (Yes I do – but not for nits)

I’ve seen all your lengthy convictions
You got from Barnsley Magistrates court
And the ash tray you stole from Bodegas
And the knocked off TV that you bought
When you go on your summer vacation
To Ibiza: San Antonio Bay
With your carefully designed crotchless swimsuit
You can tan, while all the blokes run away
(You’ll never see them for the dust!)
And by nightfall you’re found down he boozer
With others who drink to forget
And you sup your tenth Red Bull and Vodka
And moan about all of your debts

So where do you go to my lovely – when you’re alone in the shed
I know all the smells that surround you
Would have any man wish they were dead (yes I do)

Your name it is heard in high places
By the bouncers in all of the clubs
As they drag you out kicking and screaming
After being barred from all the tarn’s pubs
(Oh yes, Pubwatch know your name)
And they say that when you get married
He’ll deserve a medal as big as a bin lid
Cause he’ll have to put up with you farting in bed
And how you kick off at your seven kids
(Chantelle, Nathan, Chlamydia, Tyler and the other three who you can’t even be arsed to remember their names)

So where do you go to my lovely – what goes on inside your head
On Thursday you’re down at the bookies
Putting all of your giro on bets
(There’s no way Yorkshire Pride is finishing first)

I remember round the back of the Netto
Two children playing innocent games
I saw some things playing ‘Doctors and Nurses’
And my life’s never been quite the same (No it’s not – it never will!)
So look into my face Donna Clegg
And remember just who you are
Then go and leave me forever
But I know that you won’t get that far
(With that mattress on your back)

I know where you go to my lovely - When you’re not frequenting Greggs
I know nowt but trouble surrounds you
So I don’t want to get in your keks
Track Name: Strong Arm Of The Law (feat. Graham Oliver from Saxon)
Strong Arm Of The Law
(Lyrics & Music: Biff Byford/Steve Dawson/Pete Gill/Graham Oliver/Paul Quinn)

I was listening to the music on the radio
I had a feeling that something's not right
The music was loud, we could still hear the crowd
From the gig that we played that night
We pulled into a motorway restaurant
Stopped a while and fooled around
Oh, I still had a feeling that something's not right
As we started out homeward bound

Stop, get out - We are the strong arm of the law
Stop, get out - We are the strong arm of the law

Into the night came a blue flashing light
A blast from the siren to make sure
That we came to a stop behind the motorway cop
Who'd been trailing us for more than an hour
He pulled us out of the car at the side of the road
He questioned us one at a time
Where is the gear that we know that you use
We said the only speed we use is our car

Stop, get out - We are the strong arm of the law
Stop, get out - We are the strong arm of the law

You should've seen the stupid smirk drop from his face
It was a negative exercise
The way that we dress and the things that we do
They thought it was an easy bust
I was listening to the music on the radio
I had a feeling that something's not right
The music was loud, we could still hear the crowd
From the gig that we played that night

Stop, get out - We are the strong arm of the law
Stop, get out - We are the strong arm of the law
Stop, get out - We are the strong arm of the law
Stop, get out - We are the strong arm of the law
Stop, get out - We are the strong arm of the law
Stop, get out - We are the strong arm of the law
Stop!
Track Name: The Curious Tale Of Danny Rabbit
The Curious Tale of Danny Rabbit
(Lyrics: Scott Doonican - Music: Trad. Arr. BS/VD)

Danny Rabbit he went to’t tarn – a-ha
Danny Rabbit he went to’t tarn – a-ha
Danny Rabbit he went to’t tarn
Had ten pints – yeah he necked ‘em darn – a-ha, a-ha, a-ha

Danny Rabbit had a few more – a-ha
Danny Rabbit had a few more – a-ha
Danny Rabbit had a few more
Then went to’t club with the hope he’d score – a-ha, a-ha, a-ha

Danny Rabbit din’t have a care – a-ha
Danny Rabbit din’t have a care – a-ha
Danny Rabbit din’t have a care
Fell asleep in’t club in’t toilets there – a-ha, a-ha, a-ha

Danny Rabbit got locked in the club – a-ha
Danny Rabbit got locked in the club – a-ha
Danny Rabbit got locked in the club
It was five in the mornin’ when the bugger wok up – a-ha, a-ha, a-ha

Danny Rabbit had a good look rand – a-ha
Danny Rabbit had a good look rand – a-ha
Danny Rabbit had a good look rand
Saw the club was empty, got himself a round at the bar – a-ha, a-ha

Danny found a gorilla suit behind the bar
Danny found a gorilla suit behind the bar
Danny found a gorilla suit
Put it on and he looked real cute – a-ha, a-ha, a-ha

Danny Rabbit broke out of the club – a-ha
Danny Rabbit broke out of the club – a-ha
Danny Rabbit broke out of the club
In the gorilla costume and without a fuss, walked home, six miles – a-ha

He walked home dressed as a gorilla
And old Danny Rabbit never felt a pillock – a-ha a-ha, a-ha
A-ha, a-ha, a-ha
A-ha, a-ha, a-ha
A-ha, a-ha, a-ha
Track Name: The Devil Went Darn To Barnsley
The Devil Went Darn To Barnsley
(Lyrics: S.Doonican - Music: The Charlie Daniels Band)

The devil went darn to Barnsley Tarn
He war lookin' for a soul to steal.
He war in a bind 'cause he war way behind
And he war willin' to mek a deal
When he came across this young ’un
Laikin’ on’t weshbooard and playin' shit ‘ot.
And t’devil jumped up like a big daft lump and said,
"Ey up, let me tell thee what.

I guess you din't know it - but I'm a weshbooard player, too.
And if you'd care, to tek a dare, I'll mek a bet with you.
Now, you play pretty good weshbooard, lad, but I’m gunna mek thee see.
I'll bet a weshbooard of gold against your soul, '
Coz I think I'm better than thee."
The lad said, "Me name's Casper, and it might be a sin.
But I'll take your bet, you big red get
'Coz I'm t’best that's ever bin."

Billy, getcher thimbles on and play your weshbooard hard,
'Coz hell's brok loose in Barnsley Tarn and t’devil deals the cards.
And if you win you get his shiny weshbooard med of gold.
But if you lose, the devil gets yer soul.

The devil put his thimbles on and he said, "Reight, off we go!"
And fire flew from his fingertips and he put on quite a show
And he dragged his fingers up and darn - it med an evil hiss.
Then‘t’ emo’s rand Peel Square joined in and it sounded summat' like this:


When the devil finished, Billy said, "Thar pretty good, t’old lad,
But sit darn ovver theer for a bit and I’ll mek thee look reight bad.

Casper off the goalposts! Darn, lad, darn!
I show thee what’s the crack – Ah’m t’best in’t tarn
Judd’s killed me kestrel – it’s not fair mum!
Playing them hits like a Bar-Steward Son

The devil bowed his head because he knew that he'd bin beat.
And he laid that golden weshbooard on’t ground at Billy's feet.
Casper said, "Devil, just come on back if thy iver wants to try ageeain.
'Cause I told thee once, you big daft chuff, I'm the best that's ever been."

Casper off the goalposts! Darn, lad, darn!
I show thee what’s the crack – Ah’m t’best in’t tarn
Judd’s killed me kestrel – it’s not fair mum!
Playing them hits like a Bar-Steward Son
Track Name: The Bar-Stewards Come Home
The Bar-Stewards Come Home
(Lyrics: A.Capstick - Music: A.Dvořák )

I’ll never forget that first day at the pit. Me and me father worked a seventy two hour shift and then walked home forty-three miles through’t snow in us bare feet. Huddled inside us clothes made of old sacks. Eventually we trudged over’t hill until we could see t’street light twinklin’ in ‘ar village. Me father smiled darn at me through’t icicles hangin’ off his nose.
“Nearly home nar lad” he said.

We stumbled into ‘t house and stood there freezin’ cold and tired out, shiverin’ and miserable in front o’t’ meagre fire. Anyroad, me mam says
“Cheer up lads I’ve got you some nice brown bread and butter for yer tea.

Eee me father went crackers. He reached out and gently pulled me mam towards him by’t throat.
 “You big fat idle ugly wart,” he said. “You great useless spawny-eyed parrot faced wazzock.” He had a way wi’ words me father.
He’d been to college you know.

“You’ve been out playing bingo all afternoon instead of gerrin’ some proper snap ready for me an’ this lad!” he explained to me poor little purple faced mam.

And turnin’ to me he said “Arthur,”. He could niver remember me name. “Here’s half a crown. Nip darn’t chip oil and gerrus a nice piece of haddock for us tea. Man cannot live by bread alone."

He war a reight tater me father. He said as how workin’ folk should have some dignity and pride and self-respect, and as how they should come home to summat warm and cheerful…
and then he chucked me mam on’t fire.

We din’t have no tellys or shoes or bedclothes. We made us own fun in them days. D’you know, when I were a lad, you could gerra tram down into t’tarn, buy three new suits and an overcoat, four pair o’ good boots, go an’ see George Formby at Palace Theatre, get blind drunk, have some steak an’ chips, a bunch o’ bananas and three stone of monkey nuts, and still have change art on a farthing.

We had lots of things in them days, they haven’t got today.
Rickets… Diptheria… Hitler…
and by we did look well going to school with no backside in us trousers and all us little heads painted purple cause we had ringworm.

They dun’t know their born today.
Track Name: The Ballad Of Kipper Jackson
The Ballad Of Kipper Jackson
(Lyrics & Music: S.Doonican)

Kenneth Jackson, 61 - He once walked free but now he’s gone
And Facebook says “Free the Barnsley 1” - And that ‘1’ is Kipper Jackson”
Walks Barnsley’s streets so broad and fair - Karaoke machine in an old push chair
Now tarnsfolk cry out in despair - They’ve locked up Kipper Jackson

Kipper Jackson’s talk o’t’ tarn and PC Porter took him down
When he slapped a bun right into his crown
Shout out “Free Kipper Jackson!”
Kipper Jackson ‘Karaoke King’
Entertains the public
Croons and sings
Think of all the joy he brings
Shout out “Free Kipper Jackson”

PC Porter late one night - Had to nick some lads who got into a fight
And Kenneth Jackson only had two pints - cause of 25 years on Pub Watch.
Armed with a bun and a glint in his eye - “Ey up, pudding” the policeman cried
But Kenneth Jackson didn’t walk by - he sent the cream bun flying

The cream bun stuck to the copper’s head
 “That’s it – your nicked” PC Porter said
“You’ll be swapping your bun for prison food instead
You’re going down Kipper Jackson.”
But he launched another at the panda car and it’s safe to say he didn’t get far
Yet people hailed him a super star - for ‘Mayor’ vote Kipper Jackson!

Kenneth Jackson appeared before a Sheffield Court and Judge Robert Moore
On a red T-shirt he proudly wore - the plea “Free Kipper Jackson”
The judge said “You’re here to be tried - a custodial sentence is justified
And you’re off to the cells for two years inside
Fare thee well Mr Kipper Jackson.”

Kenneth Jackson’s in a four foot cell
The judge sent the poor bugger straight to hell
For chucking a bun he’ll do a two year spell - God Bless poor Kipper Jackson
The moral to this sad, sad tale - will come to light when he gets bail
Don’t celebrate with cake but a pint of ale - three cheers for Kipper Jackson

Free Kipper Jackson - Poor Kipper Jackson
Free the Barnsley 1
Free Kipper Jackson - Poor Kipper Jackson
Barnsley’s favourite son

Kenneth Jackson was released - and vows that he never disturbed the peace
Or chucked cream buns at the ‘aul Police - Three cheers for Kipper Jackson
Track Name: A Day In't Tarn
A Day In't Tarn
(Lyrics: Scott Doonican - Music: John Lennon / Paul McCartney)

I read the news today, oh boy
On’t front page of the Chronic Barnicle
And though the news was rather bad
Well I just couldn’t help but laugh
At Eric Ilsley’s photograph
He’d claimed well-over 14 grand
In fiddled expenses for his second home
The local people raged and jeered
He’d even claimed for his garden gnomes
It’s looking pretty doubtful that he’ll ever make the House of Lords

I saw the news today, oh boy
The telly said that Eric got sent down
The crowd of people looked away
They said he’d shamed the town
All he did was frown
They're glad that Ilsley’s gone

I wok up inside me cell
Life in here’s a living hell
In me pokey room - six foot by ten
The screws come round every now and then
Went to’t shower, dropped me soap
Didn’t really have much hope
Cos they dun’t tek well to a bent MP
There’s a bunch of lads with their eyes on me...

I read the news today oh boy
Four thousand potholes caused by winter snow
And though the potholes weren’t reight small
The council’s left ‘em all
They prob’ly didn’t have enough to fill ‘em after Ilsley’d done
They're glad that Ilsley’s gone

The Tarn Pub Lament (Hidden Track)
(Lyrics: Scott Doonican - Music: Trad. Arr. Scott Doonican)

Now in Barnsley there’s a boozer called The Grogger’s Rest
And it was home to Kipper Jackson till they said “You’re a pest”
So they put him on Pub Watch, an outlaw soon to be
But it’s Tarn and we’re proud of it - coz we come from Barnsley
Barnsley, Barnsley
Coz it’s Tarn and we’re proud of it - we come from Barnsley

Now in Barnsley there’s a boozer called the Tom Treddlehoyle
Named after Charles Rodgers - another local fool
He rode backwards from Pogmoor on a horse for all to see
But it’s Tarn and we’re proud of it - coz we come from Barnsley
Barnsley, Barnsley
Coz it’s Tarn and we’re proud of it - we come from Barnsley

Now in Barnsley there’s a boozer - in Bodegas things are bad
Serving underage rockers since God war a lad
And on metal neet you could mosh, till your head went all dizzy
But it’s Tarn and we’re proud of it - coz we come from Barnsley
Barnsley, Barnsley
Coz it’s Tarn and we’re proud of it - we come from Barnsley

Now in Tarn there war a Courthouse - it’s now a Witherspoons
And on match days it’s packed to the rafters with loons
Who have come to cheer the Reds and show their loyalty
Coz it’s Tarn and we’re proud of it - coz we come from Barnsley
Barnsley, Barnsley
Coz it’s Tarn and we’re proud of it - we come from Barnsley

Now in Tarn there was a boozer they called Tommy Wallocks
On Sat’day neet it wa’ good crack but on weekdays it wa’ rubbish
But they changed its name to Chambers and no more will it be
But it’s Tarn and we’re proud of it - coz we come from Barnsley
Barnsley, Barnsley
Coz it’s Tarn and we’re proud of it - we come from Barnsley

Now in Barnsley there are more pubs within a square mile
Than any other town in Europe, which makes tarnsfolk smile
And it’s better than Sheffield, Roth’ram or Donny
Coz it’s Tarn and we’re proud of it - coz we come from Barnsley
Barnsley, Barnsley
Coz it’s Tarn and we’re proud of it - we come from Barnsley