A Poem
You a Lord and me just a common man
I am thank it that you let me offer my humble plan
You see, all I want, your Lordship, as best a can
In my wee-way to let you try to understand
How we ‘poor -auld- dugs’ feel in these present days
And view the future from our humble ways.
All I ask you is this: ‘gie us mair fuckin po’er’
No just for MPs an that but fur we, the poor!
Who live each day and nicht afraid o hunger
Who fear the comin, cauld dreich winter
We doan get thousands for sittin on boards
We doan get 300 a day like youz in Lords
That is mair than a week’s pension fur me an the wife
Tae heat, tae feed, ti live half a life
She still cleans flairs for an extra pund
I grow some tatties in some stoney grund
But that is no how man should hae tae be
Day by day struggle… persistant poverty!
Its no Fn right! Something wrong!
It been like this up here too fn long!
This isnie 1914 wi ‘Yes Sir fur the shillin, thanks’
Its 2014 and bloody food banks!
We want the power tae change awe that
Real power down here where life is hard
Power to change the entire equation
Bring sovereignty tae our nation
Turn the whole thing upside down
Gi us a pension o 300 pound
Nae House a Lords tae decide for we
What is needed in Dundee
But gie the poor power tae mak decisions
We have ideas! We have visions
To mak a new Scotland fair, with dignity
I submit this tae you, wi nae humility!
But tae Mr Smith in desperation
Save the poor in this new nation!
If No? Lord Smith Fk-off
Leave us. Your Lordship Toff!
