Daily Reckless


Sic Transit Gloria Scotiae

(excerpt from A Drunk Man Looks At A Thistle, read by Hugh MacDiarmid. Music - Evacuation by Evan Johns and the H-Bombs. Mixed by The Plagiarist)

deid dune
It's gey and hard wark coupin gless for gless
Wi Cruvie and Gilsanquar and the like,
And I'm no juist as bauld as aince I wes.

The elbuck fankles in the coorse o time,
The sheckle's no sae souple, and the thrapple
Grows deef and dour: nae langer up and doun
Gleg as a squirrel speils the Adam's apple.

Forbye, the stuffie's no the real MacKay.
The sun's sel aince, as sune as ye began it,
Riz in your vera saul: but what keeks in
Noo is in truth the vilest 'saxpenny planet'.

And as the worth's gane doun the cost has risen.
Yin canna thow the cockles o yin's hert
Wi-oot haen cauld feet noo, jalousin what
The wife'll say [I dinna blame her fur't].

It's robbin Peter to pey Paul at least....
And aa that's Scotch aboot it is the name,
Like aa thing else caad Scottish nooadays
- Aa destitute o speerit juist the same.

[To prove my saul is Scots I maun begin
Wi what's still deemed Scots and the folk expect,
And spire up syne by visible degrees
To heichts whereo the fules hae never recked.

But aince I get them there I'll whummle them
And souse the craturs in the nether deeps,
- For it's nae choice, and ony man s'ud wish
To dree the goat's wierd tae as weel's the sheep's!]

Heifetz in tartan, and Sir Harry Lauder!
Whaur's Isadora Duncan dancin noo?
Is Mary Garden in Chicago still
And Duncan Grant in Paris - and me fou?

Sic transit gloria Scotiae aa the flooers
O the Forest are wede awaa. [A blin bird's nest
Is aiblins biggin in the thistle tho?...
And better blin if'ts brood is like the rest!]

You canna gang to a Burns supper even
Wi-oot some wizened scrunt o a knock-knee
Chinee turns roon to say, 'Him Haggis - velly goot!'
And ten to wan the piper is a Cockney.

No wan in fifty kens a wurd Burns wrote
But misapplied is aabody's property,
And gin there was his like alive the day
They's be the last a kennin haund to gie -

Croose London Scotties wi their braw shirt fronts
And aa their fancy freens rejoicin
That similah gatherings in Timbuctoo,
Bagdad - and Hell, nae doot - are voicin

Burns' sentiments o universal love,
In pidgin English or in wild-fowl Scots,
And toastin ane wha's nocht to them but an
Excuse for faitherin Genius wi their thochts.

Aa they've to say was aften said afore,
A lad was born in Kyle to blaw aboot.
What unco fate maks him the dumpin-grun
For aa the sloppy rubbish they jaw oot?

Mair nonsense has been uttered in his name
Than in ony's barrin liberty and Christ.
If this keeps spreedin as the drink declines,
Syne turns to tea, wae's me for the Zietgeist!

Rabbie, wad'st thou were here - the warld hath need,
And Scotland mair sae, o the likes o thee!
The whisky that aince moved your lyre's become
A laxative for aa loquacity.

O gin they'd stegh their guts and haud their wheesht
I'd thole it, for 'a man's a man' I ken
But though the feck hae plenty o the 'aa that'.
They're nocht but zoologically men.

I'm haverin, Rabbie, but ye understaun
It gets my dander up to see your star
A bauble in Babel, banged like a saxpence
Twixt Burbank's Baedeker and Bleistein's cigar.

There's nane sae ignorant but think they can
Expatiate on you, if on nae ither.
The sumphs hae taen you at your wurd, and fegs!
The foziest o them claims to be a - Brither!


(from the album A Drunk Man Looks at the Thistle, Part 1)


Previously

My Beautiful Ninja
Her Lips Were Made to Kiss Megaphones
Where I Live
666 Great Junction Street
Joss
Hard Shoulder
Merciless Eyebrows
Sanity is not Statistical
Gie's Yer Jaiket
Middle-Management
I Fought the War (And the War Won)
Dead Cowboy
Carolyn Yes
Chris's House
Hungover and Out
Match Steward
Inscrutable Coupon
The Day We Went To See They Might Be Giants
Michael Cade
Orang Utan
Jesus Hates Me
The Leith Police Dismisseth Us
The Butcher
Zoo Suits
Beyoncé is my Fiancée
That's George Galloway, Son
Of Mince and Men
(Do the) Leith Walk
Bute House Sycophants
Wetherspoons Nights
The Rainbow Song
The Bar is High
WTFAYBOA
Pink Floyd Are Shit
Lost in Franz Ferdinand
Zoinks! A Tenner
Central Belt Blues
Dead Funny
God in a Box
There Was A Rock Critic
Rowche Rumble
Bingo Master's Breakout
Touch Sensitive
Kurt Cobana
Delete As Applicable
When Not To Talk
Panto
Radio Reckless
300 Words
Ad Lib
Don't Involve Yourself
The Sound of Music Falling Apart
Itchy Feet
Rainy Friday
Kill Together
The Plagiarist
It's a Long Way Back to Beethoven
Who Takes The Blame
Please Pass The Milk
I Hear The Wind Blow
When It Wants
Mysterious Whisper
The Guy Who Hit Me In The Eye
New Friend
Heimlich Manoeuvres in the Dark
The Frosty Snowman
Hey! Student
Cindy Tells Edinburgh Man
The Littlest Rebel
Living Too Late
Jawbone and the Air Rifle
Do Not Drink The Tennents
Everything Is Catching On Fire
Rock JD
I Don't Understand You
Darkened Corridors
King of the Swingers
Fuck This Shit
Wherever's the Fuckin' Taxi, Cunt?
Should I Stay Or Should I Go?
Heaven
Flesh Number One (Beatle Dennis)
Listening To The Higsons
Bannockburning
Stipetoe In The Rain
Daz For Dania
Mouldy Old D'Oh
Lady McCartney
Tangled Up In Blue
99% of Gargoyles Look Like Bob Todd
There She Goes
Lashed Christmas
O.C. Clause
Nae Luck Everybody
Parly and Happy
Scary Burd
Love Thy Violence
Elected
The First Minister's Dressing Gown
Damaged Red Goods
Thick Cunt
Davie O'Hara
Strange Behaviour
Are You Being Served The Wright Stuff?
I'm Free Range
Aw Fuck, The Police!
Abba Got Back
Walking To Rehab
The Day My Pad Went 9 to 5
Funktionality
And Then?
Funeral Flesh
Accidental Lives
Philosophy
Alex Salmond

Archbishop Desmond Tutu
Saviour Breath
Big John Smeaton
No More Smeaton
Campbell's Sauce
Noah Fucking Clue

Where Seagulls Dare
Night, Thriller and Death
Wendy Alexander
I'm The Manse


The Top 20

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