Silence Is For Sundays
Is it silence ye want? Ah’ll gi’e ye bloody silence!
She spits her words with an angry vehemence.
Ah remember when peace and quiet wiz fur Sundays
An’ here’s you, a’ high an’ mighty, thinkin’ you’re a sum’dy
An’ there wiz ah, jist tryin’ tae be nice, that’s how I startit talkin’
But you, ya nyaff, see if ah hud known, ah’d chista kep’ oan walkin’.
See, folks like youse get oan mah wick, ya spoilt little brat
A’ ah asked, tae pass the time, wiz tae huv a little chat.
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