Help ma Boab, it’ll be The Bruce and Comyn all over again!
The Bruce, lang syne, in grey Dumfries,
Pit paid tae Comyn’s treason,
Wi’ “Hope ower Fear” insteed o’ blades,
Fir it’s Fluffy’s, noo in season!
Wi’ joy an’ humour, let us march,
This quislin’ tae disgrace,
Wi’ Scotland’s gauntlet thrown doon,
Tae meet us face tae face!
Bit we need nae alter, stained wi’ blood,
Tae set oor Nation free,
Jist the combined courage o’ oor folk,
Fir aw’ the Warld tae see!
When thralldom’s chains, at last are broke,
Dumfries, again , hae seen the first stroke!
Steppin’ Staines
Gin ye want tae croass a river,
Ye maun yaise each steppin’ staine,
Yin step followed by anithir,
Till the faur bank ye can gain!
Some Staines micht slide or shoogle,
Ithirs covers wi’ slime an’ weed,
Gae balanced an’ shair fitted,
Oor destination’s whaur they lead!
Oor very unity o’ purpose,
Is tae set oor Nation free,
Then whit course, we steer, there-efter?
We maun need tae wait an’ see!
Wi’ Scot’s courage, flare an’ brain,
Thon course, will be oor ain!
Oliver McFluffy
Yer jist a chip aff the auld bloack,
Or maybe a crumb aff the beard,
Ye certainly echo yer faithir,
By talkin’ keich, it’s feared!
Oor Merch, “Insulted Dumfries,
An’ wis agin democracy?”
Tae deny Scottish sovereignty,
Is sleekit, Tory, hipocracy!
Oo merched wi’ hope an’ joy,
Oo were open an’ inclusive,
Smiled at oor, few, detractors,
Nae maitter hoo abusive!
Fir Indy 2, yer bile an’ spite,
Gangs tae whet oor appetite!