It wisnae a party part 2 The Crofter's Response

Updated: Feb 18

Listen here you candy floss twat,

it’s no the cakes that made me fat;

naw, only the best of Scottish lamb,

reared in the best of Scottish land.

Land, you bastards would love to own,

tae rob us of our farms and homes.

Thank God for devolution and aw it brings;

independence is as sure as the nightingale sings.

Ye canna fool the Scots forever ye know,

before they realise hot air is whit ye blow.

Wha wha wha, the fastness growing economy

tae deflect fae the fact that ye urny sorry

for the parties, the bribes and the careless words;

here’s wan fur you-you’re a big fat turd.

Think about that when yer sitting in Chequers,

Wi yer rich pals who are buying your favours.

Your time is coming when you’ll be evicted

Fae yer grace and favour, and ye won’t be pitied.

Naw, across the country, will be street parties,

shouting ‘Boris has gone’, as they’re laughing and dancing.

Yer a heartless bastard and you’ve caused such chaos

in our land, in the house, that I never thought possible.

You’re a hopeless case made to believe by Eton that

the world and everything in it is there for the taking.


9 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

The demise of spaffer is a long haul; he doesn’t want to go at all. No longer in number ten, he can’t accept he’s a has been. Squatting at Chequers with all his pals, arranging titles to give them all

They’ll be here today, better get to work. Floors cleaned, beds made up; I can’t remember when I last worked so hard, for free-really, it not like me. Time to stop, have a cuppa, have a pee. The music

Hot June, hip Paris, hurrying and harassed, as we run to board the cramped and crushing metro carriage. And then, a voice from behind-‘Excuse me sir, but would you like to sit here? You look tired, an