Our Auntie Maggie used to sit
In winters evening she would knit
No sooner was one garment done
She'd go and start another one
Selected from her knitting kit
She'd always have a candle lit
The gentle light it did emit
Was how it was when she was young
Our Auntie Maggie
Our Uncle Dave worked down the pit
He'd come home late covered in sh**
There'd always be a warm bath run
Poor sod, he barely saw the Sun
She loved him so, the silly git
Our Auntie Maggie