Go Little Swale


Words & Music: Jake Thackray

Click here to download guitar tab

Go, lowly Swale: go headlong down,
Down through your stony-faced meadows,
Your scowling hills, your crouching towns.
Go, little Swale, and I follow.

The taciturn hill farmers patiently still
Are pacing their hillside;
The po-faced sheep stare as they go.
The pinafored women go day after day
Making their hay
Down by the river edge where wagtails are trotting,
By Booze, by Muker, by Gunnerside, by Crackpot.

Go, little Swale: go headlong down,
Down through your stony-faced meadows,
Your scowling hills, your crouching towns.
Go, little Swale, and I follow.

The children are learning to leave you behind.
(Old men have time
to stare at the dead afternoons.)
The up-country bus takes them slowly but surely
Over the moorside.
Over the poor bridges that hunch there, all crook-back,
By Thwaite, by Grinton, by Healaugh, by Butter Tubs.

Go, little Swale: go headlong down,
Down through your stony-faced meadows,
Your scowling hills, your crouching towns.
Go, little Swale, and I follow.

Go, lowly Swale: go headlong down,
Down through your stony-faced meadows,
Your scowling hills, your crouching towns.
Go, little Swale, and I follow.

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