by: Wilson, Kieran
Ye canna get ower the toon,
Wie oot haen tae wait for those cloons,
Fa’r diggin holes near every day,
Getting in aabodys way,
An yer sittin in yer car,
An it’s startin tae stink o diesel an tar.
The licht’s are still reid,
By the time they change,
I’ll probably be deed or at least pension age.
The workmen have just got underway,
Next thing they’re oot wi a cup o tae.
It starts tae rain,
Probably awa for anither beer.
The sky fairs an oot they trot,
Tryin to look busy although they’re not.
Their faces clarted in muck an stew
But they’re jist queuin for the portaloo
The licht gangs green,
I’m bouncin aroon,
I’m finally gettin ower the toon.
Twa cars makk it then it’s back tae reid,
But somethin snappit in ma heid,
I plant the fit an dinna stop,