Springburn
> Mar 1996
>
> Yer auld decrepit streets still tend
> A tumble a pee-the-beds roon gable-end
> Where scabby dug and boays befriend
> And stoatin summers never end
>
> Where drunks come steamin up the street
> And wifies gabbing there dae meet
> Their weans are screaming at their feet
> The dinners on, they'll need tae beat
>
> Big lassies shout 'Hey wee man there
> Aye you, ya bam, the wan wae hair'
> Big wummin gab aboot the Fair
> And how their feet are awfy sair
>
> And gangs a boys, they rove aboot
> Up tae nae good, ye canny doot
> They surely need their faithur's boot
> That wid prob'ly sort them oot
>
> The drains are minging aw aroon
> But it's jist the same in every toon
> The Cooncil says they'll fix it soon
> We see them wance in a big blue moon
>
> But still the weans are roon the backs
> Wi bools in stanks and sticks in cracks
> Playing games wi nicks and nacks
> Found in the midden in mouldy sacks
>
> My Springburn hame was first tae me
> The safest place I'll ever be
> The Cooncil knocked it doon I see
> But here it stays in memory
>

HOWZATT!! Webbie Stevie Boy?? OOR AIN WEE POEM! Jimmy Reid

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