Red river, red river, how ye burn the night, An therr in the distance see the luftwaffe flight. The thunder of the parachute fallin as though a feather, then as it nears the ground wi eyes full of terror. Crack in the landscape, the dull and the pain, takes the face aff the tenements and the breath of the slain. ‘Son, get oan yer wey quickly an mind ye don’t faw’, ‘But where is ma faither, ma sister, ma Maw?’ The answer wiz gone tae the wind and the roar, as the next wave of planes did dive an then soar. …Read more
Neck flexed, Stomach vexed, Cryin’ oot in vain, Held high, Bye bye, Cryin’ oot in pain, The fit. So low, Nae show, Hing yer heid in shame, Dim light, Short sight, Who’s the wan tae blame, The fit.
It’s so quiet doon oan Clydeside, nae bankies walkin’, moved away, sent away, deid or broken, nae found or lost in an unmarked grave, where wull ah end up? Be sent tae Dumfries or Anniesland Cross? When aw ah want tae dae is see ma faimley, In Radnor Park or North Elgin Street, Wull ah join the hameguard? Or face the blitzkrieg o’ the devil his sel , Sgt McKain Sir, ack ack, at the blast, Blazin’, Ye’d huv tae beloody mental ah Bankie, whit ye never hit, we knocked doon oor sels.
Jist naw cut oot furra modern world, Looks kin deceive, Find it haird tae breath, Kin ye recognise the signs? Naw surprises please, Naw sunrises when the dark comes doon, Hat pulled straight upon the brow tae cover the pain that the eyes reveal. Whit is real? Kin it heal? This is jist a question, Wan o’ the chosen few, So how does it annoy ye? Anti psychotic day dreamin’, When the mind did spin, Where tae begin, Upon the lang lie in, Wi’ the mooth so dry, Ye ask why? Anti psychotic day dreamin’, Watch the sugar intake, Fur …Read more