Letter Fae the Tolbooth

Singer, Claire

Dear ma,
Foo are ye? I'm affa weariet. I sit in iss dreary cell wi naethin bit ma fiddle tae keep mi company. I made up a new sang yesterday. I think it's the langest I've iver played in a wikk. I get fed weel bit it's nae affa great maet.
I'm thinkin aboot ye as I write iss letter aboot hoo I let ye doon an hoo I could hae lived ma life better than iss.
Oh weel, I better be gyan, as I'm affa tired. I dinna ken why, cause ma bed's naethin bit straa on a hard fleer wi a puckle blunkets tae keep me warm. I'll write tae ye the morn,

Love,
McPherson