Dancing With Maenads: (21 Poems In Scots) Poem by Sheena Blackhall

1.SCOTCH N' WATTER . '

Pitter patter, Scotch n' watter,
Melt as weel as cod wi batter,
In this warld o win an weet,
Hailstorms, rainstorms, snaw an sleet

Scotia's weather's dreich an drookin,
Paradise, fin sailin, dookin,
Hame tae salmon; trooties, eels
Puddocks, kelpies, dyeukies, seals...

At brakk o day the kettles bile,
Frae Thurso tae the Royal Mile,
While coffee mingles wi the Tay,
The Tweed, the Ythan„Dee an Spey.

Wee goldfish in their tanks at Troon,
Frisk in their bowls, tapped up wi Doon.
In Inverness, each font an ewer,
Hands Moray Firth frae sink tae sewer.

The yowes that sup the burn o Ey
Are blythe's the cheepin males in Mey;
While tattles bile, in speecial bree;
At Kinlochewe free Loch Maree
.
In basin reamin wi the Clyde, .
A Glesga roader steeps his hide.
Fite poodles, shampooed bi Loch Fyne,
Pristine, cud at Balmoral dine

Wi Firth o: Forth, Dunfermline grannies;
Lather their pinkies an their crannies.
While Embro bairns, wi jugs o Leith
Maun wash their lugs, their necks, their teeth.

The Gadie bathes, the Gairn baptizes,
Fur salmon catch, the Dee wins prizes,
While towrists read in foreign press,
A monster lurks in derk Loch Ness.

Along the Deveron, whisky stills
Pit mettle in the salmons' gills,
While Irn Bru, frae roosty nails
Is brewed wi bree that rinses whales!

Ay, H20 rins throwe wir veins,
An out wir taps, an doon wir drains,
Till Winter cams wi fozen pipe,
That plumbers hae tae weld an wipe,
Fin puddles dreep frae lum an ceilin,
An plaister plaps, wi paper peelin.

The thunner cracks. The lift growes derk,
The doon-pish syne cud launch an Ark.
Toon gutters poor like Blue Whale's spoot,
It's weet eneuch tae droon a troot.
Rain drops on wellies, sypes on sark,
Sends chip-pyokes sweemin in the park.

The self-same rain that brews yer dram,
That swalls the reamin. Hydro dam,
Dauncs a reel at Burn o Vat,
At Loth Kinnord Iies douce an flat.
On Ben a' Bhuird... a wreath o snaw.
A fite carnation in the thaw....

Watters o Scotia...here's yer health,
The wellspring o wir Kintra's wealth!


2. PEPPERMINT AND CARNATION

Marooned ahin ma bedroom door, ticht shut
Thus, banished tae the riggin o the biggin
Wi hackin hoast as lood wad crack a nut
Exiled frae hairth despite aa greets an priggin
Braith strivven for, lungs sair..
A lanely, feerie tug o War fur air

A cripplin boast cud brak a rotten stick
Flesh clammy. Breist beens clartit thick wi Vick,
Like some cauld pluckit chukken ripe fur roastin
Foriver hoastin, hoastin, hoastin, hoastin
The guff o Friar's Balsam, strang an cloyin
Wyvin its Witcherie, like Tom cat cloyin
Wi curlin rattens' tails aroon a room
O broken sleep, far Nichtmare's flooers wad bloom

Pariah, in ma sick-bed flannel goun
My voice wis barbit wire, a skreichin soun
Craik craikin like a wintry hoodie craw
Thrapple on fire, sma face turned tae the waa

Hoast worsened. Faimly doctor cried in neist
Dapper. A pink carnation at his briest
The Minty whiff o pandrop he wissookin,
I smelt, fin he booed ower, his bag tae open
His stethoscope wis jeelin as I wheezled
Wi rochies, like a flute wi fluff bedeevilled.
Ma semmit ower ma heid, facefite as chakk
He drummed a piper's mairch alang ma back,
An ay the croup-hoast, hackin, rackin, shakkin
Ma hale wee frame. I heard his hasty fusper.
Ootbye, cin consultation wi ma mither
If this growes waur, fit we will hae tae dee
Is slit her throat...a tracheotomy

I saw a butchered pig aince, by a bin,
Its cuttit thrapple curvin like a grin
An open lauch at its annihilation
An thocht o peppermint an a carnation.


3. LITTLIN, TINT.

Oh quine I niver wished ye thon,
Teem airms an rypit hairt
Yer littlin's shawl's the clarty yird
Hope, in the kirkyaird laired

It niver sooked yer mither's milk
Nor gied a gledsome greet,
A corbie skreich's its lullaby
Its goun's a windin sheet

A fit that niver fulled a shee
A moo that spakk nae wird
Eence tappit at the dooro Life
Sma summons, gaun unheard

Oh may its sowel fin sanctuary,
In land ayont aa pain
Far birds o Paradise micht sing,
Ben shouers o gowden rains
An ilkie road be as a rose
Wi wattergaws abeen
Far spleet new deid-born bairnikies
Unsteek their steekit een

Cauld, wis the.gorblie in yer nest
An wersh the birthin, wine.
Oh quine, I niver, wished ye thon
Tho yer wyes binna mine


4.GLOAMING

A raven races tae its timmer reest
A yowie styters ower a steeny brae
A derklin rose blooms bluid-reid in the wast
Gloamin...the smuchterin fire flaucht o the day


5.THE GULL SPIKKS BACK

I'm the auldest gull in Nigg
I bide on the lorry brig
0 assault and battery I staun accused.
Bit if you should pit yer haun
Atween me an a bit scran
It's a racin certainty ye'll end up bruised.

Oh I jist canna abide
Fowk fa tell me far tae bide
For ma bride an me belang tae this gray toon,
Ay, we hinneymooned at Cove
Bringin back oor treasure trove
Twa yalla-flipper nippers, speckly broon

I look ower the Craigie waas
Far the muggers sit in raws
An I winner foo fowk drive me aff ma seat
Fin aa I dee is raik
Roon the herbour fur a hake
Or a haddie or white pudden fur a treat.

I am telt yer.lugs grow sair
Wi oor skirlin. Fit is mair
Ye dinna like us up on yer reef tap...
A skyscraper tae a gull's
Jist anither cliff tae full
Wi oor bairns, far we can doss or hae a flap.

I'm the auldest gull in Nigg
Sae, toon cooncillors, I prigg
That ye'll listen tae an Aiberdonian's plea
Jist cause I'm a different race
Wi white feathers on ma face
Makk a law tae stop fowk persecutin me!


6. AENEID: BULK VI LINES 702-752

Aeneas spied a laigh howe, set apairt,
Fell secretive, a widlan oot the wye,
Its branches soughin saftly in the win,
Ben thon airt Lethe's waiters drifted by.

Thereaboots a heeze o fowk war flichterin
Doon drappin onno flooers o ilkie hue
Like bees ower hey parks on a simmer's day
Crestin the brink o bonnie glimmerin daffies,
The hale lea bummin wi thon lichisome crew.

Aeneas, meeved bi sic a sicht, syne speired
Fit thon micht mean, fit watter wyndit yonner
Wi sic a rowth o fowk, alang its banks.
The fremmit traffic o the spirit's ranks.

Repon syne, gaed faither, auld Anchises
'They are the sowls fa'll dree rebirthin's weird
Eenoo, at Lethe's burnie they are drinkin
Watters that droons man's tribbles, sain the sered.

Lang, long I've socht tae tell ye o sic ferlies,
An shaw them tae yer nyaakit, kennin, ee
Tae coont them ane bi ane, seed o ma seed;
Sae ye'd find Italie, the same as me'

'Bit faither, dae sic sowls climm back abeen?
Reclaith thirsels in flesh? Is thon their weird?
It's fey that sic as they sud, cam tae be
Sae thirled tae the warld o theYird.'

'My loon, I'll tell ye plain, twill aa be clear,
I'll answer ilkie question ye micht speir.
First ye maun ken the Heivens and the Yird,
The watters o the Sea, the Meen's bricht sphere,
Throw makk an marra o aa mortal things,
The sun an starnies aa are keepit gyaun,
Leavenin as tae gait Creation wirk,
Bi Speerit. The Aybydaun Mind reams thrang
This merriege richt eneuch, did mankind sire
Breets, birds o air, fey craiturs in aneth
The muckle ocean's quate, unrunkled face
The virr inbye these myriad sowls is fire.

The spunk that kinnles aa's celeestial.
Deidened an dimmed, thon licht in corp o sin,
Flesh wechtit doon wi daith, in crock o clay
Oor sowls ken fear, joy, sorra, langin, tae,
Bit blin, in their derk prison they're cribbed in.
They canna see the bleeze o Heiven abeen.
Nae even fin the hinmaist licht blaws oot,
Dis Evil, or the ills as flesh maun thole,
Owergie wir peeliewallie sowls pursuit.

It maun be sae, that mony's the blicht grows slee,
A Coorseness thirled tae the verra bein
Owerlang inby the flesh, unhampered bidin
An sae the deid are cleansed in purgat'ry.

Some wrangs are sained, washed aff bi whirlpuils
Pit there tae pye the wages o auld sins.
Ithers are brunt awe bi birsslin fire.
Some hing streetched tae the bluffert o teem wins

Ilk een o's fins in the neist warld his pyre.
A puckle fowk, lowsed, hairmless hummle doddies,
Wanner Elysium's sweet scentit roadies
Till sic time comes, lang aeons dicht oot blame
The blicht inbye, fegs, naethin's left shin
Bit Leevin Speerit, Sowl's aybydan flame.

Efter a thoosan years be come an gaen,
God sens fur aabody at the hinnereyn
The myriads steerin ben the banks o Lethe.
An syne, wi memory washed awa, their lane
They cross the portal o their yirdy hame,
The biggin o the flesh, tae stert again.
.
.
7. I MAUN GYANG DOON TAE THE QUAY AGAIN

I maun gyang doon tae the quay again, far the gowden ile slicks sheen
Far the roosty cargo boats are berthed and the win is a ripe sardine
An the hoors mell and the syreens skirl and a seagull 's wildly shakken
A herrin's heid while a junkie's haun his dose of heroin's takken

I maun gyang doon tae the beach again, fur ma yearly dose o catarrh
Tae wyde ben sanitary tools an tins in a jeelin Nor East haar
Far masochists in dookers wee are briestin the icy wave
And a soor-mooed shag it fixes me, wi an unnertakker's scrutiny
As if tae say, Foo nae jyne in/ Fa's neist fur an early grave?


8. TINT

My granny's tint her memory, she canna tint ava
Ae day she hid a memory, the neist it wis awa.
I think my granny's memory his gaen awa tae Spain
In a hett air balloon because it cudna thole the rain.

My granda's teeth are missin. Far are they bidin noo? .
I think an alligator cam an tuik them tae the zoo.
They sit in the admission box, an clack, at fowk gaun through.

My da his tint his held o hair.
Because his scalp is cauld,
He's grown a strip that's ten fit lang,
An roon an roon his heid t'will gyang,
Tae hide that he is bauld.

My ma his tint her temper
It makks her face turn reid
Like a collie wi distemper
Her een birssle in her heid
Oh far's her temper hidin?
If ye see it, post it back
Wi a skull n' crossbeens ower the box
And DANGER screived in black


9. POLISH DAY

Forks, sherp as the jags o Neptune's trident
Fish knives, caunlesticks, bricht wi sailer plate
Poker that split coal's hoodie hairt reid raw,
Like the crimson linin o a conjuror's cape.

Speens an toast racks' aluminium ribs
Siller joogs far cream curled coy in dribs
Lyin oot on the table, braisse fur horses
Lyin oot like a wheen streekit corpses
Wytin the Resurrection o the dicht
Each ferlie dull's a dowsed, an happit licht

Granmither cannily cowpin yalla jeelips
0 Brasso inno a torn cloot
Rubbin the sides o braisses like Aladdin
Trystin the genii oot.
The cloot grew black as sin
It fulled aa neuks, aa crannies,
The guff frae the strippit tin

Copper kettle winked tae fender's feet.
Siller tings winked tae braisse-studded seat
The hale metallic boorichie o gear
Takkin the sunlicht, garrin't glint an brier
Takkin the sunlicht.Playin catchie wi't.


10. COLLECTION DAY

Pensioner- clunk. Thank you
Pensioner-clunk. Thank you.
Pensioner- clunk. Thank you.

Fit charity are ye collectin fur the day? Mental Health is it?
I thocht it wis cancer, or hairt disease..somethin important...
Mean tae say, we've aa got problems.
Ither fowk get on wi't.
Pull thirsels thegither, hae a bit o tenacity....
Gallsteens, ulcers, piles, I've hid them aa.
Aathin frae varicose veins tae hoosewife's knee.
I dinna knuckle doon....I sodjer
I dinna complain, nae me. I wish I'd niver stopt. Here's 20p.

Pensioner- clunk. Thank you
Pensioner- clunk. Thank you.

Businessman -chink. Thank you.
Young inner- chink chink. Thank you.

Go on Jamie, give her all your pennies. No, all of them.
Go on. Not everyone is born with your advantages.
Kindness is very important. We should never forget
The psychiatrically disabled. Even a little can relieve their misery Unfortunates with no nice home and family like us,
The poor and destitute of our society.

Pensioner-clunk. Thank you.
Pensioner-clunk. Thank you.
Businessman-.clunk clunk clunk. Thank you.

Nae rattlin yer tinnie, ay, that's guid.
I cannie thole yon fowk that rattle tins.
I eence went tae the Palais wi some friens..
I asked this lassie up... Oh, she wis nae ile peintin, let me tell ye.
'You've nae chaunce, son, ' she said, 'yer jist a dreep.'
Seein you staunin there, remindit me.
Collectin fui. the Mental is it? Ay, They're aywis boddom o the heap.
Here's 50p.

Pensioner-clunk. Thank you.
Pensioner- clunk. Thank you.
Hoosewife- chink chink. Thank you.
Pensioner- clunk. Thank you.

I'm sick tae daith, fair scunnert, o fowk that phone an pester constantly
Fin I've new satten doon tae hae ma tea
Tae sell me double glazin, holidays in Spain
Or Funeral Plans, implyin that I'll dee
I'm nae fur a meenit suggestin that it's you...
Some bam's ay on the scraun fur charity.
An Mental Health is een I dinna gie. I'll miss ma bus.
I'll really hae tae flee....

Pensioner- clunk. Thank you.
Pensioner-clunk. Thank you.

We neen o's ken fit fate micht haud in store...
I ken the figures, lassie...een in fower....
Wi worry, I've bin touch an go masel
Near tae the edge. A special kinno hell.
Coins are a scunner..my brikk pooches rax.
As weel ye get the siller than the tax.

Pensioner- clunk. Thank you.
Pensioner- clunk. Thank you.

Teenagers-clunk clunk. Thank you.

Fa's the siller fur? Ay, I'll donate.
My neebor lost his hoose because o thon.
He aywis kept hissel immaculate
A C.P.N. ay luikin oot an in,
He wis a quaet man, nae drukken reprobate.
Until his laddie wrote tae say he'd visit.
That wis eneuch. He luikit forrit tilt.
The young eens dinna think. They sudna promise...
Hope's a flooer that's affa easy kill't.

His furniture wis cairtit tae the skip, Nae wirth the keepin.
Naebody tae store't.
An fit cudnae be dumped wad hae bin chored.
Fur him, I'll gledly gie, haud oot yer tin
Wi aa o's need a haun sometime in life.
I tell my man we're lucky, we've each ither.
Jist wyte a wee, ma lass, ye see, I'm blin.

.
11. BUS HURL: ABERDEEN- KEITH

The sky slippt unner ma skin the day
A sky o bluebell blue
Wi a pluffert o cloud like a dandelion's
Blawn tooshts o lichtsome oo

We bad fareweel tee the traffic's gurr
An streets, wi tounsfowk thrang
Dour tenements like staunin steens
Gaed wye tae the teuchit's sang.

Syne, raggedy daffs, like yella cloots
Stude wallopin in the sheughs
An the snell wins wheeched atween the whins
In icy wauchts an soochs.

The hauns in ma pooch grew kittly kyne
Tae raxx fur a girssy stakk
0 wyvin girse frae the Garioch braes
Far sweeter nur blackboord chakk

Ten taes tapped, as the rigs raise up
The rigs sae crummly broon
As insteps mynd on the cradlin cup
0 a plooed park, sinkin doon.

Though the bus wi its birrin, duntin sides
Kept oot the widlan smirr
At the back o ma neb, I's sweir I catched
The rosity yoam o fir.

The glents an daws o a wattergaw
Shone braw throw sun an weet
Gaun ower the howes like witcherie
It gledden't ma hairt tae see't.

An buiks an tcyaave o the greybeard years
Daunced aff in fairy sheen
An a bairn luiked ooto the kintra bus
Throw an auld wife's een, yestreen.


12.THE POWSER

The powser's sleepin like a clootie doll
At ilkie neuk his cleuks hing doon, twa-fauld
His sprauchled kyte's a drift o snawy fur
His thrapple ripples wi a rochlin purr.

His breist bane swalls wi pech, a bellows, blawin
Like a wee boatie, bobbin up, syne faain
On the great sea o sleep, the landlocked powser
Shoogles ae lug, an rankles up his mowser.
An sic a mowser... It micht string a fiddle,
A sailor's riggin, or a fairmer's riddle!

This spurgie's Bogieman, his wame, stap-fu,
Sleeps douce an gentle as a cushie-doo.
Bit aince ootower the yett; the doo's a Deil
A sleekit shadda wi a hairt o steel.

Sliddrin alang the glaury, gloomy, toun
His een, twa slits o green, gley up an doon.
The muckle, sherp-pronged trap that is his mou
Gants reid an glinunrin. Cheepers, saft as oo,
Chitter an squeak...the makkins o a meal
Tasty as herrin in a fisher's creel.
Their wicker nest's a puir defence 'gin Daith
Sud powser chuse tae snip the threids o Braith

He'll skreich an spit. A rowth o battle scars
Tell o his tulzies in aneth the stars
King o the cassies gaun-aboot-nicht-fowk
The powser reigns supreme. He's nae man's gowk.


13.Overheard at the Airport

'I've niver fleen afore. I'm feart o heichts

And takk yon sweetie aff her! Look, she's clartit! '

'I'm sure I'll like the new Job, eence I get there.
It's jist that I'm hamedrauchtit. I'll be hameseek.'

'The news last nicht wis bad. Air crash ower Russia! '

'Foo late's the plane? We should demand a refund! '

'Far's yer ticket? God...I kent ye'd lose it.
Ye'd lose yer heid withoot me here tae haik for't.'
I hope ye packed yer peels. Yer lookin poorly.
We dinna wint a stooshle in mid-alr.'

'Och aabody spikks English. It's compuls'iy. Wioot us towrists comin, they'd be skint.'

'I thocht yer da wid come tae wave us aff.'

'I hear this traivel company's near bankrupt.. There wis a bomb alert last month in Ireland.'

'Ice on the run wye. Is't ower late tae cancel? '

'Hae ye hid aa yer jabs? My airm wis swollen.'

'Fit queues are wytin fur the Lunnon plane! '

'Trust you tae book a seat near a schule pairty.'

'Mind, buy a pint or twa o Glenmorangle. The duty free's the thing fur Hogmanay.'

'Last warnin. Will aa passengers come forrit? '

'My final shift. The plane's packed tae the gunnels.'

This is your leader spikkin. Danger. Danger. Will aa geese in formation, Please sheer left! A Metal bird's trespassin in oor air-space! Alert! alert! Drap doon aneth the clouds!


14.QUEEN'S CROSS

The widda's shadda's lang
Her cross wis bein born
Intae the age o Victoria.

Nee winner she's door on her plinth
Face like a torn scone
Enough tae curdle the Dee
An soor the Don.


15. SONG OF AN IMPOVERISHED ABERDONIAN

Let's as gae doon tae the scunnerin beach
Tae the nesticky bricht gee-gaws
Far the coffee's frothy's a putrid peach
An the icicle North Win blaws.

Let's pump a wikk's wage inno the slit
0 a hoor-like hungert bandit
An fin we lose, wauk aff wi a smile
As if yon wis the wye we planned it.

Let's watch the littlins turnin blue
In their bumbee frilly panties
While dribbly shoogly weet ice cream
Dreeps doon their mas an aunties.

Cam, takk ma haun tae the sewage stran
That reams wi Alsation- pee
Far the partans clack an the mongrels snap
It's scunnerin, bit it's free.



16. BYRON SQUARE, NORTHFIELD

Ay, it's poetic justice. Fifty-fifty.
Best meisurs aywis come in equal doses
Haufo oor fire-new Labour MSPs are weemin
Eesefu fur mair
Than beddin doon like Cocker's ceevic roses.

Thon's official. Tell ony shut-in lassies shovin prams, the buzz wird
Noo is this. Life's open endit.
Mitherhood isna a derailed career, jist ane that's momentarily suspendit.

Playin the smairt card in the votin game in Byron Square
Means makkin sure the richt tae wirk's defendit.
Sae fit's the seasonin, makks a politician?
The grit tae graft, tae act on a decision.

Wirkin twa wikkdays in the granite city
Three, doon in parliament, on committee
She sits throw lang collogues, far she taks tent
0 hopes an dreams, frae fowk she represents..

This year, a mace, wi skill an thocht designed
Shawed Fowk, Lan, Parliament war closely jyned.
Smeddum; wi gowd an sitter intertwined.
The will tae wirk towards the gweed o aa
Within the boundaries o this kintra, sma.

The votin ower, new breems sweep stoor awa
Frae Transport maitters, Learnin, Health an Law.
The ritual's ower, oor traivellin MSP, on Setterday, rotates her surgery
Far the constituents can bring concerns
On traffic, health, the schulin o their bairns
An girn or air fitiver gripe they hug, in the electit parliamentary lug.
An she maun juggle different district's needs
Like traffic chuggin aff at different speeds.

Tae wirk for fowk, guid MSPs sud be,
Netwirkin, email literate, non demeanin
Skilled in computer age technology
Wi ideals, fresh as mountain burnies reamin
Tae fecht agin injustice, poverty,
An as the ills that plague society!


17.THE NOR EAST WIND

D'ye catch yon gurl frae the Norlan Sea?
Thon waucht o taigles an herrin bree?
Frae icy corrie tae bylin shore,
The great caul breeze shifts back an fore.

Hear the sooch o it, snell an roch,
The Nor East Win, frae Ben tae Broch
Crisp an caller as Heilan Linns
It skelps the waves far the Gadie rins
An the weariet fairmer at the ploo
Blesses the win that cweels his broo

Fin Springtime dyews lie fresh an weet
The Nor East Win blaws saft an sweet
Gars brierin barley ben the howe
Trimble an shakk its lichtsome powe

D'ye catch yon waucht o the Norlan sea?
Thon swatch o taigles an herrin bree?
Ower the rigs an three times roon
Sweepin the byewyes o the toon.

The Nor East Win's a win o chaunce
That hansels mony's a waddin daunce
It rattles the yett roon sneck an nail
It takks an tosses the bridal veil
Syne, locked ootbye, it hauds its wheesht
As meal meets ale in the bridal feast

The barley dried bi the wanderin win
Is cut an gaithered an hairsted in
Tae brew the dram that gars us lowp
Tae fill the keg an the whisky stowp

It cuts a swathe ben the Buchan smirr
The Nor East win is a win o virr
In the oorie wids it soughs an sings
An it showds the clouds far the rainbow hings.


18.TATTIE HOWKERS

Spirkit wi sleet, the howkers wirk the rigs
A raw o dreepin nebs booed ower the yird
Humfln the sculls, hauns dirlin wi the cauld
Liftin the tattle crap wi feint a wird
.
Like human brigs, twa-fauld, they stride the glaur
Dellin the dubs fur tatties, clorty-neived
Weet mochles, pirled wi styew, they plyter on
Till ilkie pikk o park is howked an seived.

A line o choochin ingins, puffin rick
The braith o bairnies rises frae the dreel
At fly-time, halflins ett their pieces thick
In this, a different drudgery frae the skweel.

Back-brakkin darg. Loons warm tae the wark
Their elders tcyauve ahin, coats auld an torn
Brikks stapped in waldies. Tattiebogle duds...
Driven bi thocht o cash in haun the morn.


19. INTERNET

America
Africa
Aiberdeen
Twa wee clicks
An the wirds hae gaen.

Nae lickin
Nae stickin
Nae postie ava
Tip- tap, tip-tap
Click-click-
Ta Ta!


20. TWA HOODIES

We are twa skreichin hoodies
Fa stravaig aboot the ferm
Oor tarry coats an rochlin throats
Fegs, dinna seem tae cherm

A chukken fur oor brakkfaist
Tae chaa ahin a buss
Ye'd think we war mass murderers
The wye ye luik at us

Fit did YE hae fur denner?
Lamb's chop...or wis it veal?
Fit's guid fur ain is guid fur baith
We bid ye aa fareweel


21.THE BUS

Here's the bust. Shove past the queue!
Staun on the cripple blin man's fit!
Push a pensioner intae the road
There's ae seat left, an l'm gettin it

Foo are you glowerin, mannie?
This bus is fit o complainers!
Jist cause I dichtit ma fit on yer breeks
Wi dog's dirt stuck tae ma trainers.

Melanie Anne...yer affa quote.
I hope ye've feenished ma Maths.
Ye ken fit clypes an wimps get..
Hauf drooned in the public baths.

Mary! D'ye wint ma chuddy? I hinna chawed it lang...
Hauf ooto ma tree I wis last nicht, on cider chaip an strang.

Hiv you got a problem wifie? Wi yer face like a torn cloot?
Is that a wig yer weirin? Dis Cornhill ken yer oot?

Fit's that? I've got nae mainners?
I'm a rude, lood, glekit stinker?
Watch yer moo ye fat auld coo
Or I'll clap yer lug, ye minker!

The passengers are feart o me.
I skid. I fart. I caper
If I roar oot chikk, they look doon quick
An they hide ahin their paper.

My pyoke o crisps is feenished.
I'll blaw an burst it. Bang!
See yon auld foosht turn purple?
Her pacemakker's gaen wrung.

The driver canna stop us...Ma pals takk ower the bus
An if ye ken fit's guid fur ye, ye winna makk a fuss.

See yon wee first year shakkin?
As much backbeen as butter!
Let's chase him up the lanie!
Let's fling him doon the gutter!

Let's ring the bell a hunner times... on the seats, let's scrat oor names!
My ma thinks I'm an Angel...
An sae I am, at hame.