Take a tip mate, and take a trip mate
to Gateshead on the Tyne,
For twenty two weeks, you’ll see more than leeks,
let’s hope the weather’s fine
The Gateshead Garden Festival
Song Lyrics
The Great North Run
CHORUS: It was thirteen miles at the most on the Great North Run
From Newcastle to the South Shields coast, on the Great North Run
The Hoppings Song
In Newcastle on Tyne ev’ry year,
On the Town Moor there is a fair,
The Hoppings in the last full week of June.
The largest travelling fair around,
Gets the show off the ground,
Race Saturday commencing at twelve noon.
Cramlington Village Fair
One sunny Sat’day morning, aroond the middle of June,
The wife sez “We’re ganning oot, it opens at twelve noon”,
The place was packed when we arrived, the Mayor of Blyth was there,
And we had a good time at, the Cramlington Village Fair.
That’s Northumbria
In the North of England there’s a beautiful land,
A Kingdom of castles and silvery sands,
Where the wall built by Hadrian, the Emperor, stands,
That’s Northumbria
The Coast at Whitley Bay
When aa was a lad a holiday was a daytrip to the sea
With a bag full o’ sandwiches, some pop and a flask of tea
There’d be me, me mother and father, me sisters and Aunty may
Heading for wa holidays at the coast at Whitley Bay
From Seaton Sluice to Sydney
I was born in Newcastle on the Tyne
I’ve lived in Northumbria all the time
But now I must leave
Friends and family don’t you grieve
In Australia I’ll be doing fine
What have they done to Gateshead?
I travelled the world for country and King
It took two years off my life
And when I returned to Gateshead town
I courted and took me a wife
And that was July nineteen fifty one
When Gladys and I were wed
In October we sailed for Australia
And said farewell to Gateshead
The Pitman Poet
CHORUS : So here’s to the memory of Tommy Armstrong
He was the pitman poet, righting all life’s wrongs
In the words of his poems which are now folk songs
Here’s to the memory of Tommy Armstrong
He was the pitman poet, recording life and times
In the late eighteen hundreds in his verses and his rhymes
When the main source of earnings was working down the mines
And sometimes the wages there were paid back in fines
The Felling Shore
by Wilf Mitford
Aa mind Sunday mornings doon by the Felling Shore
With me Father and me sisters when we would all explore
The place where he was born and bred, before the first world war
He would show us where he used to live, knocked down some years before
CHORUS
Though the people and the hooses were replaced by grass and trees
The Felling Shore was still alive in me Father’s memories
