“Love bombin’s” done!
“The floo’rs o’ the” Union,
“Are aw’ weed awa’!”
The voice o’ oor folk’s,
No’ heeded at aw’!
Noo they petition,
Tae throw Scotland oot!
Thon’s fine by us,
Bit their ain debt they’ll foot!
An’ Katie’s daft babblin’s,
O’ incite-fu’ tripe,
We’ll pit them ahint us,
Mair nor slates we maun wipe!
As Union ties shrivel an’ wither,
Plainly, we’re no’, “Better Thegithir!”
In Fluffo Veritas!
Pair wee Davie-nae-mates,
Wi’ his snide, creepy style,
Repels agin rejection,
His Nation tae revile!
A sma’ regarded minion,
Wha’s barely tolerated
Tae dish his maister’s dirt,
He’s curtly delegated!
He said “It’s disnae matter,
Whitivir Scots may want!
We rule in Westminster!”
His snipin’, vengefu’ taunt!
Mind this Democratic flaw,
Simply stems frae votin’ “Naw!”
Fir waan't o’ a rhyme (wi’ Hunt)?
Health is at the very crux,
O’ a Nation’s he’rt,
Bit thwarted by dogma’s blight,
Maun pit us oan alert!
A posturin’, Blue “Cutty Stool”
Insists upon his way,
Chingin’ rules an’ contracts,
Despite whit Dochtirs say!
Churchillian in his fantasies,
Agin’ Nazi an’ Facisti?
It's NHS that needs defence,
Agin’ this Tory beastie!
Lest Health disputes gae unresolved,
Gie thanks oor’s hae been devolved!