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.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Ode to Nicola
An epistle to the bewitching Ms Nicola Stephen
Oh Nicola
Oh Nicola
Woman wi’ two first names
Oh Nicola
Oh Nicola
Woman wi’ two hot flames
Oh Nicola
Oh Nicola
Continually playing games
Oh Nicola
Oh Nicola
Whit’s your bloody aims?
Oh Nicola
Oh Nicola
Woman wi’ two first names
Oh Nicola
Oh Nicola
Woman wi’ two hot flames
Oh Nicola
Oh Nicola
Continually playing games
Oh Nicola
Oh Nicola
Whit’s your bloody aims?
An essay on the failings of universal suffrage
An ode on the sad and perturbing occasion of the election fiasco of May 2007.
Just a little cross
How hard can it be
To stop old Baw Face
And the feckin SNP
Yet voters spoil papers
With halfwit capers
Mixing up digits
Like mental midgets
Like eejits
Like clowns
Like Gordon Browns
Call it hypocrisy
But I hate democracy
And bleedin bureaucracy
Just vote Labour
Like your neighbour always did
Just a little cross?
Naw.
I’m pissed off
Just a little cross
How hard can it be
To stop old Baw Face
And the feckin SNP
Yet voters spoil papers
With halfwit capers
Mixing up digits
Like mental midgets
Like eejits
Like clowns
Like Gordon Browns
Call it hypocrisy
But I hate democracy
And bleedin bureaucracy
Just vote Labour
Like your neighbour always did
Just a little cross?
Naw.
I’m pissed off
