"Merry place you may believe, Tiz Mouzel 'pon Tom Bawcock's Eve
To be there then who wouldn't wesh, to sup o' sibm soorts o' fish
When morgy brath had cleared the path, Comed lances for a fry
And then us had a bit o' scad an' Starry-gazy pie
As aich we'd clunk, E's health we drunk, in bumpers bremmen high,
The words are English, by the way, peppered with Cornish—an ancient Celtic language spoken only by those with beards and a love for wonky stones. It's all a bit fish-come-Jabberwocky. Still, you get the idea.These days, Mel Matthews is the proprietor of The Ship Inn; she's grabbed the baton of pie-giving from generations before her.
And when up caame Tom Bawcock's name, We'd prais'd 'un to the sky"