I'm not sure if I want to be hard boiled
I'm not sure if a long life where I've toiled is preferable to a short one with a runny yolk
and that my funeral will be attended by loads o folk
Lang in the tooth there's a wee white lie
if you count them in my head when I die
you'll not find so many, 6 if you try
The others ones lang gone och aye!
So hard boiled it is with a napper to match
You could strike off this head if the fire doesnae catch
You can fetch some more twigs, logs and the rest
Then settle me down in my Sunday best
I love that picture at a viking funeral pyre
The fire goes out instead of going higher
My mongrel life which had been due to expire
Is struck on the head by a wee wooden fire
No comments:
Post a Comment