Much as I supported your independence
I'm sort of glad you blew your chance
Would I really have wanted Scotland
To be as foreign as France?
Truth is you're already alien
Another race apart
And if you don't believe me
Look at their culinary delights for a start.
Buckfast for your breakfast
Morning, noon and night
Is it any wonder
All you want to do is fight?
And what on earth is haggis?
I don't mean to be rude
Is it all that dodgy leftover horsemeat
That Tesco wouldn't put in their food?
Don't dare get me started
On your chip shop nosh
When you deep fry your mars bars
Ans pizza in batter's posh.
Talking of don't get me started
What about your weird national dress
Though I wouldn't mind a peek up your kilt
If I were to confess.
Truth is...it kind of suits you
Men wearing a skirt
And if I were a little braver
I wouldn't mind a flirt.
Problem is the language barrier
We're supposed to speak the same
But every time I chat to a jock
It's a 'nod in the right place' game.
For your lingo is so different
It might as well be double Dutch
It's not that I don't like you
I just don't understand you much.
Chatting makes me nervous
Very hit and miss
Frightened I'll smile instead of frown
And you'll give me a Glasgow kiss.
But now the referendum's over
We must all get along
Next time you wail "Donald where's yer troosers"
I'll even sing your song.
So don't mistake me for anti-Scottish
I've always found you great hosts
It's just that I've never really got over
You stealing our Wembley goalposts.
Dulwich Poet 20th Spetember 2014
(A light-hearted response to the Scottish referendum. I have no idea what the title means, it's what we always say when pretending to speak in a Scottish accent!)
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