The McConnell Log
Some smart Alex once said that Scotland will only be free when the last minister of the Kirk is strangled with the last copy of The Sunday Post. Now, thanks to Jack Topaz McConnell, that has all changed. Now they say that Scotland will only be free when the First Minister is strangled. Wee Jack, however, is much more than mere politician. Unknown to many of his countrymen, he is also poet and tragedian. For better and for verse. Much, much verse. Here, in a style owing much to lauded predecessors such as Burns, McGonagall and Dalglish, is the secret poetry of Jack Topaz McConnell.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Ode to oles
On the occasion of the Scottish parliamentary elections of 2007, a time of purdah and purgatory.
Ah cannae stand burnt sausage rolls
And am bored stupid by a game of bowls.
Ah dinnae believe in the Dead Sea scrolls
And cannae be arsed wi Sunday strolls.
What’s the point of studying black holes
Or watchin fish swim around in shoals?
Ah just cannae abide Cabinet moles
Or that wee ginger twat Paul Scholes
Or Skye Bridge tolls or our own goals
Or Peter Bowles or Tony Knowles
Ah wouldnae fancy walkin o’er hot coals
Or having my bollocks eaten by voles
Or being shot at fae grassy knolls
But worse than a’ thae tortured souls
All their parts and all their wholes
Is friggin, bastardin opinion polls
They fair get oan ma wick
Ah cannae stand burnt sausage rolls
And am bored stupid by a game of bowls.
Ah dinnae believe in the Dead Sea scrolls
And cannae be arsed wi Sunday strolls.
What’s the point of studying black holes
Or watchin fish swim around in shoals?
Ah just cannae abide Cabinet moles
Or that wee ginger twat Paul Scholes
Or Skye Bridge tolls or our own goals
Or Peter Bowles or Tony Knowles
Ah wouldnae fancy walkin o’er hot coals
Or having my bollocks eaten by voles
Or being shot at fae grassy knolls
But worse than a’ thae tortured souls
All their parts and all their wholes
Is friggin, bastardin opinion polls
They fair get oan ma wick
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