A hope naebody minds but in ma pure excitement at joining the thread a huv swerved reet oot ma ain layn and penned a wee Christmas carol fir yis aw to celebrate the festive season that is upon us.
It was all hallows eve and aw through the flat,
The flairboards were buckling under the weight of the tat.
Poor baby gurul Rayn choked on the wax melt stench,
As fifteen choclit stations were crammed on the bench.
The wee junkies above were kicking oaf at the farce,
As 7 foot tree branches poked at their arse.
Wee deek was hiding in the bumming fort,
Wondering how long he might get for murder in court.
In the Christmas Eve boxes made for two grown men,
Were pjs the size of a young girl of ten.
Mop kicking slippers were stuffed inside,
And CK one too, smell the wealth it’s not snide.
But where might you ask was the star of the show,
The wee fella who had Beirut all of a glow.
Well wee Mazda is dangling from the ceiling above,
Putting the star oan the tree top as he belts Higher Love.
A hope yis enjoyed hens