Scunnered ©
Paul Murdoch
Alexandria, Scotland
2005
I’m scunnered weh the dreary dawn, the knackert night, the mokart morn.
I’m scunnered weh the price o breed, o mingin mulk, an manky mead.
I’m scunnered weh the missis teh, her trachalt clehs and heed o grey.
I’m scunnered weh ma clapped oot cor, thit canny trundle very for.
I’m scunnered noo way Aberdeen, its lanky loons and querist queines
I’m scunnered teh weh Dundee’s grime, Way Snekie’s grub an Glesga’s crime.
Am scunnered sick weh Blair an Broon, they’ve ripped the guts oot ma wee toon.
Am scunnered how they shut the hames, tear doon the schools, an dodge the blame.
Am scunnered teh weh war an strife, weh flood an famine, loss o life,
Am scunnered weh extemes o view, thit canny tak the other shoe.
Am scunnered teh weh midges, clegs, wey ticks and flehs an clatty keds,
Am scunnered noo weh workin’ ferms, wey moanin minnies’ blue-rinse perms.
An hoo am a so doon in mooth; gon shame the devil, tell the truth.
Weh awe that wis, an stil may be? - Am scunnered weh maself, ye see.
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