Picaninny Circus

On aye the hour, o' bar och night
Yon sky, she greens wi' flashy light;
Whaneath, hap' hae! a lightsome throng
O' tarty driv'llers proule they song;
"Undrugget mac, ye nae gang whair,
Sat crispin' in muck' dourndwae thair".
Nae places, malcontain'd in books
Wha justly circumbusk theer looks:
For fairn ta'e eynie, girles wi' blue
An' bags, an' things, maccloun the view:
Frae Italie, wi' botties peach,
Unfresculaties, out ach reache,
Or dawdie cristyanks port thae' pudge
Duckturdled in the broaenie sludge -
Ach, ailsie jennimon', in spence,
Draw on hae pursie, piss the pence!
Ack piss the groand ye walkin miss
Tote shoen, a mouthron, mincel prisse.
I och nae splutterie ach 'hem
Uck, retchie 'hawgle 'scucky phlem
Herein mon dourwae, christly stiv,
Hac skythy hour, mun cough'ly live.