Muckers Of Glasgow: Hitler Hears Of The Death Of Frank Carson.

Glesga Kiss

I remember my first kiss like it wis only yesterday.
An’ I’ve goat the marks across my foreheid jist tae prove it.

It wis in the West End Ballroom, it’s nae longer there they say An’ I’m glad the Glesga Cooncil decided tae move it.

There wis this wee blonde wumman, she looked a guid wee dancer.

So I dashed across the flerr at considerable speed.

The wumman saw me comin’, sayin’, ‘here’s that bow-legged chancer.’

An’ she hit me oan the foreheid wi’ her heid.

I cannae remember her name, och! It’s a’ the bloody same.

I’m bein’ hurled aroon’ the Royal oan a barra.

My shirt’s a’ fu’ o’ blood, wi’ fifteen stitches in my foreheid.

An’ the Doctor says I’ll no’ see for days, because o’ her mascara.

I swore it wid be the last time I’d be goin’ tae the dancin’.

There surely must be a safer way tae carry oan romancin’.

Glesga Poem

A thread that runs aroon this wurld

A tie that binds us aw'

A link tae hame fur those away

Who still hear Glesca’s call

So many in the USA

From sea tae shining sea

We’re spread oot o'er Canada

Nova Scotia tae B.C.

Thailand, France, South Africa

We’ve all found pals from there

The British Isles, New Zealand too

Advance Australia fair

Each corner of the world is here

Tae laugh and reminisce

Of places, people, bygone days

And the city that we miss

So raise a gless, dear GlescaPals

And shout a hearty cheer

Let’s toast Webmaister McArthur

It’s thanks tae him we’re here

Oor Jimmy

Oor Jimmy Goat an ASBO

It wis jist before his birthday,

He wis very nearly six,

That oor Jimmy broke those windies,

Way some dirt great big bricks.

Then he kicked old Mister Brown,

And telt him tae ‘fuck aff’,

Relieved him o’ his pension,

And cut his walkin’ stick in haff.

Aye, oor Jimmy is a right wee lad,

He’s alwis full o’ fun,

But he’s only at his happiest,

When he’s playin’ wae his gun.

He shoots at cats and dogs and stuff,

And people on their bikes,

He disnae mean them any herm,

It’s jist somethin’ thit he likes.

Jimmy goat a birthday present,

A man frae The Council called,

Presented him wae an ASBO,

And said he wis appalled.

Ah’m takin’ Jimmy oot taenight,

The wee lad cannae wait,

We’re off doon tae McDonalds,

Tae fuckin’ celebrate........Jim McLean

Took out a Woodbine the last of his fags

then he bellowed toys for rags

last blast on the bugle and then he'd hush

lit up and waited for the expected rush

the kids in the street would all go mad

looking for rags from their mum and dad

in all the cupboards throughout the rooms

a handful of rags for a couple of balloons

With great anticipation they stood in line

eyes fixed on the ragman all of the time

no pounds or ounces of imperial measure

just a bundle of rags for unlimited treasure

though I could only stand and stare

we never seemed to have rags to spare

now looking back and assessing the facts

all of our rags were on our backs.

Muckers Of Glasgow

Monday, 27 February 2012

Hitler Hears Of The Death Of Frank Carson.

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