Heid-Bummer

Blackhall, Sheena

The Irish hae their shamrocks.
The Welshmen hae their leeks,
The Scottish emblem weirs a pair
O thorn-encrustit breeks.
His toorie's saft an purple,
His face is green an roon
He disna gie a docken
Far he bides, in park or toon.

He's common an he's sturdy,
(Nae a peely-wally lord
Wi a pyocher an a chyne o gowd,
That cudna draw a sword)
He's bonnie an he's couthie.
He'll staun side bi side wi neeps,
Roses, rhubarb, hinneysuckle,
Far the blackie sweetly threeps.

He's a better frien than enemy...
Dinna beard him in his lair...
Fur gin ye raise his dander,
Mind, his scartin can be sair!