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Bitter-Sweet Economics ©

John McCallum
Falkirk, Scotland

Awe ti be a hielan' coo,
Wi' contemplation inspiring chew,
Like wain wi sweety in a trance,
The grassy flavours held yer glance.

You've never wanted much it seems,
Content and happy in sheltered dreams,
An' many a man has tain such oath,
That's square protected fae greener growth.

What's mare wi' wife sae very prood,
He's fed wi' love an' wholesome food,
In tamin' plan she's fair invested,
Nature's faults lie imperfected.

Auck, it's true ye streech tae tickle yon grass,
Auld fence wire ticht aroon' yer mass,
Completin' the shame o' flirtin' lust,
Yer necklines rid wi' flakin' rust.

Wha could ye hairm ma bonnie friend?
Wi' runny nose that a would tend,
Tae see ye bare fae oor pretensions,
Awakes ma guilt o' man's infections.

Tae endure hellish state you'd tain,
A twichin' wreck wi' herried brain,
As nostrils blaw of fumin' fear,
The gastly flavour draws a tear.

Money maitters his tain it's toll,
The scientist has sold his soul,
Wi' common sense pressed pages bound,
Auld cattle bone wis cattle ground.

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