1. |
Gied A Bash
01:52
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Hev ee ever stopped teh wonder or ponder if ee should?
Teh jist imagine “could ah maybe dae’d - an’ dae’d real guid?
When ah’d ask ma faither teh see what hei might hink,
He’d aye say guid a bash, son, an feenish wi’ a wink!
Wud ee gie’d a bash, wud ee gie’d a bash,
Wud ee gie’d a gie’d a, gie’d a bash,
Wud ee gie’d a bash, wud ee gie’d a bash,
Ah’d gie’d a ah’d gie’d a bash
Ah’d gie’d a bash, Ah’d gie’d a bash,
Ah’d gie’d a gie’d a gie’d a bash,
Ah’d gie’d a bash, Ah’d gie’d a bash,
Ah’d gie’d a ah’d gie’d a bash
Wud ee gie’d a bash, wud ee gie’d a bash,
Wud ee gie’d a gie’d a, gie’d a bash,
Wud ee gie’d a bash, wud ee gie’d a bash,
Ah’d gie’d a ah’d gie’d a bash
Ah’d gie’d a bash, Ah’d gie’d a bash,
Ah’d gie’d a gie’d a gie’d a bash,
Ah’d gie’d a bash, Ah’d gie’d a bash,
Ah’d gie’d a ah’d gie’d a bash
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2. |
Findisapoke
03:25
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Findisa poke o' Roond Close tablet,
Scrapeit trays so there's nae waste,
Findisa Fuddie Harrow pie
Or a tub o' Hill's Meat Paste
Find is somehin' that's guid teh eat
Jist like it yince was made
Goosegog jam frae the jeely pan,
Or some o' Tamson's leemonade ?
Brisket birselt in the pan,
cauld drippin’ on a piece,
Rolls frae the "Store" when it was gan,
Sugar Ally - aliquorish?
Contentit Pale Ale-flavoured burps
Buttered breed wi’ sugar,
Javaro Orange - grand big slurps
As ee gan up The Dunk wi’ yer dooker
Hepworth’s mirror – Harry the star
Yeh leg an’ nae need tae puul ee
Felt like heeven in the High Level Bar
Big roarin’ fire thenks teh Wullie
A Nanna Hardy Penny Chew
Sugared rhubarb fresh frae the grund, eh?
An a' the games thit oo yince knew,
Kep A Gush right at the cundy
Cockerossie, Kick The Can,
Playin’ Cheggies in the street
Chalkin’ oot beds on pavey slabs
Teh dance through wi’ light feet
Kissy-Catchy wi’ the girls,
Hoppy Jooky tae
off’ tae the bushes for some thrills,
Hide ‘n’ Seek ‘n’ Sides Away
A game o’ quoits on Seterday,
Pitch and toss up The Mare,
Truth, dare, double dare, promise or command,
Ah aye went for the dare!
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3. |
Deh Ca' Mei Nutty
03:51
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Deh ca’mei nutty or say that ah ca’ hink
Ah might hev daft ideas and sometimes take a drink;
But deh say that ah’m loopy or gone right roond the twist,
Ah’m a dimwit or a dunderhead or needin’ a slapped wrist
Deh say ah’m a numpty, heid thick as a brick wa’
No’ the fuull shillin’ or jist a heid the ba’
Ah’m nae nincompoop, mei, nae screw loose up on top,
Ah’ hev my wits aboot is, nae deedlieweg, fuull stop!
Deh ca’ mei a fruitcake, altho’ I like ma buns,
Deh say that ah’m a crackpot ‘cos I come away wi’ puns,
Ah ken what a bampot is, an ah’m no yin o’ thame,
Some folk might be a’ wired wrong, but ah’m set for the game
So deh say ah’m a nutter, that ah’m stippit, a galoot,
Away wi’ the fairies, roond the bend or jist aboot,
Ah’m nae brush that’s a daft yin, no mei, nae halfwit, either
An if ee say ah’m no’ a’ there, ah’ll boil intae a fever
Deh say ah’m only half baked or no quite fuully din
Nae madcap silly billy or toucheet like some yins,
Nae batty loon or cuckoo goon whae’s lost and in a fog,
Nae dum-p-lin’ thit’s wandert, or a barkin’ mad auld dog
Deh say ah’m off ma rocker cos I like tae rock ‘n’ roll,
As that wud be a shocker, dolly dimple, bless ma soul;
Ah’m no’ b-b-b-bonkers - nae basket case, no’ yet,
Ah still like a game o’ conkers, tho’ the plonkers get upset
Bungalow Bob – there’s nowt up top – that’s what they ca’ some bams,
The glaikit yins, the donnert souls, that get themsels in jams,
Deh ca’ mei nutty or say that ah ca’ hink,
Dey say that ah’m a dafty, an ah’ll no’ kick up a stink!
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4. |
Fookie
02:28
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Puul the wool doon ower oor een and oo’ll jist sei right throw eet,
Nae contemplaeshin’ needed, nor nae chow and chow and chow eet!
At the faintest whiff o’ fanciful oo’ll ask ee jist what took ee,
Away ee gan an’ boil yer heid an’ dinnae be sae fookie
If oo find ee’re rumblet - what ee did an’ said was duff,
Ee’ll be telt teh take a tummel tae yersel an’ that’s enough;
Oo’ll find ee oot and sei throw onny tall tale that’s plain cookie
If it’s half-baked, fer ower corny, unbelievable, it’s fookie
Nae mitter how ee dress eet up, nae mitter how ee puut eet,
Ee’ll be telt strite frae the hip, yer story disnae cut eet;
A heid thet’s fuul o’ bummy bees ‘ll mair likely wun oor peety,
But, if they lay eet oan ower thick, it makes yer teeth gan gritty. . . awfy gritty
When stertin’ oot teh make their merk an’ actin’ like a rookie,
Ah’d place a bet tae make a bob or twae wi’ ony bookie
Ee could really be fund oot, when trying for some nookie
Them wi’ their wits fuully intact will aye can spot a fookie
Deh be sic a fookie, lad, oo jist deh ken what took ee,
Dinnae be sae fookie, an’ oo’ll no a’ hev tae jouk ee!
. . . deh be fookie, deh be sae fookie, jist deh be fookie, deh be fookie. . .
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5. |
Heroes Yin An' A'
04:21
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Tawkin’ o’ thame that made their merk
A’ big hitters, throw an’ throw,
Ee’d hink there’d be songs aboot thum,
But they hevnae been din ‘til now
Let’s hev a look at oor heroes,
An’ celebrate what they’ve din,
Above an’ beyond each yin o’ thum went
Ah’ll gie their stories a spin. . .
Voice o’ rugby, Bill McLaren, fillin’ us a’ wi’ pride
Raisin’ the bar, up an’ ower hei went, teh make us feel guid inside
Octegenarian Helen Camerton - hert fer bigger than life,
Helpin’ thame thet needed it maist an’ sufferin’ Multiple Strife
They say Chay went “the wrong wei” as he battled the waves afloat,
But, in Seeventy Yin, the Man O’ The Year did it right, back teh front, in his boat
Twae for yin frae Otto Weiz in the glossy magazines
turnin’ the ladies on wi’ style an’ twin sets fit for Queens
Teh rock aroond the clock, first, ee hev teh fiind yer groove
Johnny & The Roccos at their peak, didnae hev owt teh prove;
Top Ten hits in Norway, oor Bob a hoosehold name,
A’ the competeeshin’, man, was tame, man tame
And, anither famed Hawick live wire, charged teh heed Doon Under
Wi’ AC/DC at full tilt, Stevie Young played like thunder
A day oot o’ Hawick is a wasted yin, as some o’ thum might say,
But Smithy frae Soothfield traivelt fer, explorin’ by night an’ day;
Sir Andra as some of thum kent um, couldnae bide on the bit ony wei
Hei sported a pair o’ itchy feet - a zoologist hei was tae
Henry Scott the bravest Major, was the “Hero o’ Quebec,
Hei led his men wi’ valour, an’ a flourish o’ what-the-heck;
Hei beat the French at their ain game an’ celebrated wi’ flair,
Plantin’ a flag on the city wa’s - “Hawick for ever,” hei declared
Wullie Knox sterted oot as a fermer, but his poetry made um his name,
Wi’ fans like Abraham Lincoln, thae verses won him his fame
Hugh Rennie McGurk, a runaway champ, compeetin’ like nae ither seen,
Twae hunder and sixty medals won, the man was a sportin’ machine!
Hei ran circles aroond the rest, an’ Cumberland wrestled thum a’
Boxed in the ring with the very best, wunnin’ mony awards for his wa’
Leather-bound and saddled teh tame where the TT racers roar,
‘Hizzy’ excelled as fans a’ yelled - the hero they adored
But afore hei won his glory, anither yin triumphed at hame,
Back in his day Jimmie Guthrie tae, was right at the top o’ his game
Thame thet wur pushin’ pedals, could gan like the clappers an’a’
The first Scot tae feeneesh Tour de France, Ken Laidlaw held us in awe;
Hei took his bike on that gruelling hike, great peaks teh climb wi’ the pack,
An’ efter showin’ us how it was din, got a great Hawick welcome back. . .
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6. |
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If somehin’s “next teh nihin” it’s real cheap,
“In a pickle,” ee’ve got trouble by the heap;
Insteed o’ shut up, say “gie’d a bun,”
If ee get a big surprise, it’s “oh, ya whun!”
In the kitchen if ee’re doon on yer hunkers,
That’s crouchin’ by the sink under the bunker
Ca’ get up, it’s yissless an’ yer beat
Hev yersel a laugh – deh stert teh greet
Ony yin thet’s “bageet” is stuffed fu,
“Streit-forrit” means it’s straight an’ true;
Tae tell thum no, there’s “wull a whuff,”
An’ then again, just “nut” wud be enough,
If ee skelp yer face an sport a big black e’e,
It’s a “keeker” that ee hev for a’ teh sei;
Jingel-jointeet an’ yer body’s bendy,
“teesh” is awfy awfy plush or trendy,
A pong or somehin’ stinky, that’s a “guff,”
A big heid that’s a “tadger,” hinks hei’s tough;
If ee’re feelin’ “yaised” ee’re bein’ used
When ee end up “foamin’,” ee’ll be “roosed,”
“Deh let dab” means tae keep it teh yersel,
At “twal toonty” that’s twenty efter twelve;
“A’ ower the bit” is scattered fer an’ wide,
Tae “mitter” meanss it matters (wi’ some pride),
“Hardly credit eet” – when it’s beyond belief,
And “get shot o’d” when ee gie it a’ a heave;
Mean wi’ yer money - they ca’ ee awfy tight
An, “seffy nin” aye comes afore the night,
When ee’ve hed a fright ee got an “awfy gliff”
It’s “hailed” if a ba’s stuck up on the “rif,”
Ee’re really “hard-up” when ee’re feelin’ ill,
When ee end up “raevelt,” that’s worse still,
Fair “nithert” when yer feet and hands get cauld,
And “withert” when the wrinkles tell ee’re auld,
It’s “platchin” if ee’re soaked through tae the skin
‘cos ee’re “shooders” wernae cloaked wi’ onyhin’,
“Ill din tae” is when ee’re feelin’ really peaved
A hairy oobit strips a cabbage o’ its leaves
If ee tell a fib, oo a’ ken thet ee “lee,”
Shears’ll help ee trim or “sned” a trei
“Long-sleever,” is a bottled pint o’ beer,
A “whussle” ee can blaw an’ make folk hear;
“Fair strappit,” it’s a loan ee need,
An “stoppit” when the traffic light’s at “reed”,
“Fair stappit” when ee finnd yer belly’s fu’
“Oot o’ sorts” is when ee’re feelin’ kinna blue,
It’s “stervation” when ee’re chitterin’ frae a freeze
Ee’ll be “shilpit” if it’s “snell” an’ makes ee sneeze
A “wesheen” fullly “wesheet” et the “stert”
An “ern” ‘ll press the “claes” an’ hev ee lookin’ “smert”
If ee’re “hankeet” then ee’re needin tae be freed
If it’s maybe, say “ah hinksi,” if ee need
How oo say’d an’ what oo caaed
How oo say’d an’ what oo caaed
How oo say’d an’ what oo caaed
How oo say’d an’ what oo caaed (and repeat)
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7. |
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Yince a year, there's some in Hawick whae like teh gan Jamaican,
A tot o' rum topped up wi' milk, and twae or threi if they can!
Songs will be sung and airms flung aroond the necks o' ithers,
Some overdae the ritual - end up greetin' like their fithers
Weeks aheed, teh fill the need, they order up the cases,
This is the tipple guaranteed teh pit smiles on their faces;
Pace yersel they'd caution, as wicer yins had tutored,
Ee'll get the knack and ee'll bounce back if ee deh end up blootered
Nae yow an' mei wi' cup o' tei, as mither fries the bacon,
Oo sit and oo get merry as the mornin’ feast she's makin'
Fife and drum play Teribus and horses hooves they clatter,
Oo think back teh days gone by - the singin’, an' the patter
Bairns cheer on the Cornet as they stand at gairden gates
An oo recall great singers like Viv Sharp and Ronnie Tait;
Jim Hill sang o' thae horsemen ridin' oot fower hunder strong,
A streekit line painted sae fine, oo a' felt where oo belonged
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8. |
Yin O' A Kind
03:59
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When oo were growin' up as kids,
Joy filled a’hin’ thet oo did
Oo looked in deep, off wi' the lid,
Oo hed some laughs, a'hin' was guid
There were lots o’ fun and games,
Ootside oor hames oo yaised oor brains
Imagination gie'd us gains
Oo'd nae need for Hornby trains
Born tae be free, Wattie and mei
Wud hike the hills and clim the treis
Gei often oo wud skin oor kneis,
But oo'd aye jist bounce back, ee sei,
Wattie an' mei aye sported weel-skint kneis!
Ah’m mindin’ the smile, mindin’ the style,
Words an’ thoughts thet stick oot by a mile
Original thinker – yin o’ a kind,
An’ it a’ came frae yeh singel mind
Wattie Robson, was a guid auld freend o’ mine!
Wattie an' mei oo played in bands,
When hei held moothie in his hands,
The bluesy soond hei made was grand,
An' hei wud dae the odd handstand,
Hei wud make up his ain words,
Oo laughed and laughed they were absurd,
When hei grew up hei charmed the birds
Wi' strangest conversations, heard,
Wi’ Mmmpapeeps he yaised to pei
For pints o' beer when oot tae play
In pubs he took his fiddle tae,
Coupage supped throughoot the day,
Hei wud sup unleeded tae, as hei fiddled that Wattie wei
Ah’m mindin’ the smile, mindin’ the style,
Words an’ thoughts thet stick oot by a mile
Original thinker – yin o’ a kind,
An’ it a’ came frae yeh singel mind
Wattie Robson, was a guid auld freend o’ mine!
Mischief never fer away,
Yin day when playin’ bombs away,
Oo made the king o' bangers - hey
It fairly shook the hooses, eh?
What a blast, the rocks flew past
Oor heids sae fast, the reek was vast,
Oor expectations were surpassed
When folks came oot, they were aghast,
There was a stink, the smoke was pink,
Oo could hev ended in the clink,
But oo baith scarpered wi' a wink,
Athoot detection, in a blink,
. . .maybe oo should hev seen a shrink, when oo shook the grund that day.
It worked, a'right gie'd us a fright, when it blew the grund away
What happened there, the neebors asked, an’ whae did that, the day?
Off on adventures every singel day
Twae rough Diamonds buskin' it in the band
Magic Wattie and his daft magic words
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9. |
Deh Bug Onybody
01:26
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It wud be a scunner
If yer big gob din a rinner
An’ ee messed up in a yinner
It’d be a bummer,
nihin’ could be dummer
a stinker – what a hummer
Deh land yersel in hot witter
Or hink it disnae mitter
An’ end up feelin’ a’ bitter
Deh live teh regret eet,
Aipple cairt, upset eet
Never teh forget eet. . .
No o o o o o o o . . .
Deh bug onybody
Deh bug onybody
Deh bug onybody
Deh bug onybody
Deh bug onybody
Deh bug onybody
Deh bug onybody
An’ oo’ll a’ be fine!
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10. |
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The gairden shed o’ days gone now, could alsue be a gang hut tae,
And when there was a gang o’ us, the place where oo could play
Graham’s Dad’s hut sat proodly right at the end o’ oor ain patch
The gairdens o’ Burnfit were oor stompin’ grund, OK
Hei bade 'roond in Ruberslaw Road and mei in Fraser Avenue,
An’ that’s how the pair o’ oo, got joined up for the game
Ideas better than maist o’ thum, better by fer an nae mistake
True adventures by twae rakes, an’ nane o thum were tame
When oo were aboot twal year auld, puffin’ on some Anchor fags
In Graham’s dad’s Gairden hut, on that rainy day
Oo baith wantit teh take a trek - intae Alfie Mairchbanks Yaird
Sei what hei’d jist got in, thet oo could take away
Alfie bought jist onyhin, thet hei could offer teh sell for mair
An’ this day took delivery o’ hings oor airmy’d yaised
Oo hed tae hev some for oorsel, couldna wait teh get back hame
Plans were fleein’ through oor brains, anticipation raised
A Morse Code kei still in its box, but hei only hed jist yin
Oo’d needed a saicend yin afore oo could stert teh play
But oo got twae earphones tae, broon bakelite and set teh gan
Yince oo hed hooked them baith up - teh talk tho’ fer away
Oor back gairdens were back-teh-back, it needed a fair stretch of wire
Connectin’ thae walky-talky hings frae his hoose across the wei
What fun oo hed that summer’s night - up late bletherin’ on an’ on
Planning fresh adventures, an’ what oo’d dae next day
Anither trip tae Mairchbanks Yaird, lookin’ for some sets o’ wheels
Yins thet yince hed been on prams, pushin’ the bairns aroond
Coach-built beauts like Silver Cross - gei near indestructible
Wud gi’e yer racer a better chance - as ee hurtled doon
Oo hed anither hidey-hole - right unnerneath the slates,
Up on ma attic rafters - an’ lit by caunle light
Ma brother, level-heided Jack - stuck his heid up through the hatch
Said oo could burn the hoose doon, it wusnae awfy bright
Snuff thae caunles oot, hei said, deh ever play wi’ naked flames
Then ee’l no baith get the blame for settin’ the place ahaud,
Best if baith the pair o’ ee, get yer bums back doon thae stairs
So oo can keep oor een on ee, yer mithers wud be glad
Oo retreated teh the gairden shed, where at least oo’d get some peace
Felt hei was gangin’ up on oo, an’ sic a muckle nag,
Pondered some fresh mitters there, plannin’ for the morn’s more,
Serious contemplation’, puffin’ on an Anchor fag
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11. |
Oor Poachin' Days
03:32
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Way back in the eiteen hunners an’ long afore their time,
Kinly Stick an’ Heather Jock when thae were baith in their prime;
Poachin’ onyhin’ ee wanted, rabbit, deer an’ salmon tae,
It was, they insisteet, birthright an’ no’ a crime
When on land owned by the gentry, it wud make a richer prize,
Takin’ frae ablow their noses, brazen an’ wi’ nae disguise;
English lairds sent raidin’ pairties ower the Border plunderin’
An’ oo’d return the favour, gie’n thum a big surprise
Yeh big gang up Bortiff wei, some said they wur toonty-strong,
Lawless an’ oot o’ order, wudnae keep oan gan ower long,
A constable whae’d roond thum up, took a posse oot wi’ um,
Nae mair sheep wud they be roastin by the campfire singin’ songs
A pal ah went tae schuil wi’ back in nineteen sixty twae,
Hei wus as guid as ony, kent the local lay-oot tae,
Salmon and bonnie sea troot, pulled frae rivers, burns ana’
Henry was yin o’ ma heroes, poachin’ baith by nicht an’ day
Spine tinglin’ adventures chased by bailiffs an’ the cops,
The cleek an’ stick hei maistered, his stories were the tops;
Yince while oot by moonlicht, waders richt up tae his chest,
Boys in blue investigatin’ caused his pair hert tae stop
Hei clambert oot with sic a struggle, curled umsel aroond a trei,
As they shone their torches, hopin’ hei, they wudna sei;
Then they gied um quite a shocker – hei couldna believe his een,
Thae Bobbies drapt intae the witter, hooked a fish and went their wei!
Yince a’ ower The Borders, folk thowt thet eet was fine
Tae take hame a big fresh fishy, athoot yaisin’ rod an’ line;
Now thae fish are mair portecteet, in the witter, free tae soom,
But, oor poachin’ days are ower – an’ some feel that’s sic a crime!
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12. |
Yokatolla
04:00
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Condeeshins set, a' ower the toon, the sledges they came oot,
And every slippery slope there was, right on that slope oo'd shoot;
They thundered doon path, road and hill wi' fearless bairns aboard,
Like a helter skelter streitened oot, and off on it oo roared
Wi’ sledges lashed thegither tight teh form a Yokatolla,
Eite or ten wud ride that thing as oo tried tae control her;
Oo'd get some bumps and finggers snecked, sometimes a bloodied schnozzle,
Keen teh hev anither go, back up the hill oo'd jostle
Even when catastrophe wud stop us fir a wee while,
The braver yins wud keep oan gan, wi a spot o' their ain freestyle;
A crash that was a bad yin wud hev ee hinkin' twice,
Them thit didnae bide aboard jist hed teh pei the price
Sledges thet were made wi’ pride by joiners in the toon,
Great dauds o' wud and built teh lest frae muckle trees were hewn;
Steel runners din by blacksmiths wud glisten in the sun,
As ee hauled them up the hill again teh stert anither run
There was a slope at Fairhurst Drive, doon the the railway line,
A Yokatolla set off there - at first a'hin' was fine;
But near the fit, eet kept oan gan an' crashed intae a post,
Pare Billy Renwick broke his leg, a fate oo a' feared most
On Vertish Hill they'd sledge a'day and efter derk a'na’,
Each yin o' thum determined to make yaise o' the snaw;
When mum and dad came for their bairns, oo'd pul their leg an' say:
"Try frozen Wulliestruther, they went oan the ice teh play!"
Across the toon and countryside that rumblin' resonated
As Yokatollas hurtled doon afore the saut oo hated
Youngsters in their hunners, wi’ scarves and gloves weel yaised,
Oot for some fun in wunter time, and some of it half-crazed
Frae Wulton Dean and Burnfit tae Weensland's Half Moon Field
Toboggans clattered on the ice and cheery yelps were squealed;
In Wellington Street and Whiteauff Road and Dickson Street an'a'
Thae bairns a' came oot in their droves, prayin' "please, deh let eet thaw”
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13. |
Balaclava
01:22
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14. |
Ya Tondo
02:28
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Jist yeh win wud warrant yin,
If somehin’ makes ee stert tae grin
It sterts off weel when ee begin
That first plunge when wild soomin’
If somehin’ gi’es ee a shock,
Or ee hev teh take a knock
When guid fortune comes tae dock
Or the band is really rockin’
Jist yin big scary fright
In the middle o’ the night
Or it could be a big delight
Fer better than a dunt or scunner
When suddenly ee stert winnin’
They get caught when they’ve been sinnin’
When yer heid, it sterts spinnin’
Ower somehin’ ee’ve din, an’. . .
Ee feel really guid inside
Haud yer heid up wi’ some pride,
Ee succeed when e’r ee tried,
That happiness sets ee off greetin’
When ee get a big surprise
An’ yer lows turn intae highs
It seems the limit’s in the skies
The tem-per-a-ture sterts risin’
The tem-per-a-ture sterts risin’
The tem-per-a-ture sterts risin’
Ya Tondo, Ya Tondo,
Ya Tondo, Ya Tondo,
Ya Tondo, Ya Tondo,
That’s when you hear them say Ya Tondo
Ya Tondo, Ya Tondo,
Ya Tondo, Ya Tondo,
Ya Tondo, Ya Tondo,
That’s when you hear them cry Ya Tondo
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15. |
Yella Yorlin
04:40
|
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|
Hev ee heard the Yella Yorlin - “a wee bit of breed - and nae cheese” please,
The hoolet howl in the early mornin’ - a ful dawn chorus frae the tops o’ the trees?
The song o’ the syke as it soars heeven-ward, a Whaup in the valley’s evocative cry
Wild Geese here for their wunter holidays, skeins like arra heids crossin’ the sky
Hev ee peched tae the croon o’ Ruberslaw, camped under canvas in Harden Glen
Plunged in the pools at the Caddroun Pots, seen the panoramas frae Penchrise Pen
Pulled a picnic frae a Liddelsdale bag or bathed in the witter at Sundhope Fa’s
Hiked teh the top o’ the Mintae Crags, been wowed by Hermitage Castle’s wa’s?
Honeysuckle summer in the Ettrick Valley, the scent o’ Yarra frae the meadaes there
A welcome rest up at at Tushielaw, walked the hills ‘til yer legs were sair
A rideoot for yer Mosstrooper’s badge, hevin’ a guid blether wi’ Ian or Madge
Savourin’ some o’ granny’s hame cookin’ or a slice o’ Copshie’s Barley Fadge
At The Snoot, there lived a clever fella and hei could charm a’ the animals there
When hei stepped oot they’d a’ gether roond, a Weg, doggy woggy sat by his chair
Hei cried Spiderbirds, the hens turned raucous, a cat wud aye heed a haut yow praukus
Bobby Thomson, nae Dopey Dokus, aye hed wunderfu’ hings teh share
Now, some might find this shockin’ - keep that teh yersel, ah can hear thum cry
On early encoonters wi’ nylon stockins, an’ that first touch o’ the milky white thigh
Teen years fumblin’ in atween rockin’ - awkward fails an’ determined tries
An’ pittin’ up wi’ yer pals mockin’ if a wily lass cut ee doon tae size
Yella yorlin, yorlin away,
Yella yorlin, yorlin away,
Yella yorlin, yorlin away,
Yella yorlin, yorlin awaaaaay
|
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16. |
It's A'right teh yell
03:41
|
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|
Ah’d like tae sei the back o’d
Sei the hint end true
Oor a’ gettin seek o’d
Scunnered throw and throw
Oo’ve a’ hed enough o’d
Seek teh the back teeth ah’d say
Covid changed oor habits
Some no in a guid wei
Deh like tae look ower fer aheed
An’ furrowed brows reveal
Payback for the wei oo treat this world’ll
Be makin’ us sweat as weel
If ee jist ca’ take ony mair,
Then turn it on its heid,
Stert steppin’ oot, wi’ confidence,
Or oo might as weel be deid!
Them thet bide mair positive
Aboot what can be din
Can cairy quite a charge thumsels,
jist dinnae accept a’hin’
open-mindeet, quizzical,
independent in their wei,
Raisin’ awkward questions,
An’ maybe eyebroos tae
Lookin’ for alternatives
Tae sei where they might gan
A new path teh a better wei,
that wud make a guid plan
When ee fiind the right yin
Deh keep it tae yersel,
Jump up and doon and tell the world
- It’s a’right teh yell!
|
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17. |
Ah've A Place
02:30
|
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|
Ah’ve a place inside ma heid,
Or maybe tucked ahint ma hert
Where the guid memories a’ need
Hev been kept right frae the stert
A’ thame thet ah’ve held sae dear
Hings they said and how they were
It’s how ah’ve kept thum near
No’ lost in time and way oot fer
It’s true ee should feel blessed
If ee’ve hed a right guid life,
Filled wi’ wonder an’ the best
Maist o’d shared in love wi’ a guid wife
Some o’d oot pit doon tae luck
An some frae happenstance,
Connections, fate an’ freendships struck
Maist sae meant and no’ by chance
|
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18. |
Oo'll A Get There
01:16
|
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|
Oo'll a' get there in the end, an' feelin' quite contentit,
Better than bein' up the creek an' feelin' a' dementit!
Deh worry, then, it's sic a waste, dae'd as if ee meant it,
Ee deh need mei tae tell ee this ah'm share that ee a' kent it
If ee eat food fresh, breathe in guid air
Walk in the hills and wuds some mair,
Sometimes wi’ baith feet jist bare
Treat a’body like ee care,
Gi’e the pairest their fair share,
A bob or twae thet ee can spare
An’ daed as if ee meant it
A yince hed money in ma pooch until a' went an' spent it,
A fund a flat in Buccleuch Street and a jist hed tae rent it;
Frae that wundae, I spied Bren, she blew mind and bent it,
Then an arra pierced my hert - think Cupid must hev sent it!
(Boing Zebedee sound)
Boing, ticky, tick, ticky, tick, ticky ticky
|
||||
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