The Bushgrave Gairden

Wyness, Lys

I sat on the azalia bush the ither day
An nae muckle guid it's been
The hebe wis flattened the wik afore
Smashed tae smithereen.

I've got it in for aa the shrubs
They're shakkin in their reets
Gang gaily gairden, graip an hoe
An bluidy great big buits.

I coup an stieter thro the floowers
An think I'm daeing fine
But demolition is my game
Jist topped the Russian vine.

Syne, it widnae dae tae worry
'Hi Ho, Hi Ho,' I sing
Dig up aa the seedlins
Filst weeds are flourishin.

I'll niver hae green fingers
Fair scunnert, envy springs
At gairdens wi their borders
An baskets hingin swings
Burstin wi petunias, lobelia an the like-
Wis thinkin: I micht jist settle
For chuckies an a dyke!