A'm No Gaun.

                                A’m no Gaun!

Whit the hell urr yie staunin there fur? ya durty wee parasite.

Wie yir heid inside yir hoodie, and yir boots aw covered in shite.

Can yie no see we’re aw busy here, we’ve aw goat things tae dae.

We’re aw helpin oot an auld friend, tae take a wee rest the day.

Yir an awffie distractin wee bugger, wie they weird  ootlandish claes.

How dae yie know ya wee bugger, when we’re at the end ae oor days?

A’m share A can feel yie starin. Urr yie checkin yir wee black book?

Is it me? or him? or her? That’s next. Gaun tell me, or geez a wee look.

“Don’t wrap yir hauns aroond the rope, it’ll burn when it’s slippin through.

The digger’s here huv a right guid grip, it’s thame that’s haudin him noo.”

Here, haud  the bus, fur goodness sake, will yeez  stoap fur jist a minute.

A see yeez urr lowerin a coffin doon here, but who’s the bugger that’s in it?

Here shuffle ower. Move oot the road, A huvtae tae read the man’s name.

Aw naw! Aw hell!  Aw whit’s gaun oan? His name and mine urr the same.

That cannie be right. A’m staunin here, as bold and as large as bliddy life.

Goad, look at that wee  bugger noo , he’s goat a long and curvy big knife.

An whit’s he starin at me fur ? and why’s he crookin his knobbly finger?

Naw, A’m no gaun. A’m tellin yie. A’m  stayin here. Don’t say A cannie linger.

A wish yie wid huv let me know. Yie could huv phoned or sent me a bliddy text.

A didnae know yie were cumin here, yi’ve goat me feart noo and awe perplexed.

Good God! Who urr aw  they people there, sittin happily in yir cairt?

Aye, mibbe it’s time A went wie yie. Mibbe it’s time A played  ma pairt.

A’ve jumped right intae the wagon, A’m happy , A’ve nae worries ataw

Fur A;m haudin the haun ae ma Faither ,and A’m cuddlin ma Mammie anaw.

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