Dreich the haar in the dim day's dawin'
In the clouds, tapsalteerie in dismay.
And there's still just a wee fart blawin'
Through the bum cheeks o' Scots the day.
Ye were feart! Cowed ahint the sofa,
And at freedom, got a few keeks
And ye gawped like daft wee laddies,
Sulked and sat doon and kieched yer breeks.