Pavements covered wi dog turd;
Pieces made wi lemon curd;
Drunken alkies, voices slurred;
Evening news by Jackie Bird,
Hanging oan her every word;
Ma Scotland.
Rain and wind, freezin cauld;
Slim Jim Baxter, Bertie Auld;
Hunners o’ wee men goin bald;
Sky Plus package been installed,
Hope the license van hisnae called;
Ma Scotland.
Bag o’ chips to romance her;
Fags and beer, oh ya dancer;
Every ned a Bengal Lancer;
World leader for lung cancer,
Doctors havnae got an answer;
Ma Scotland.
Deep-fried Mars bars on oor hearts;
Arbroath smokies, Border tarts;
Guid at snooker, guid at darts;
Wet, Wet Wet in the charts,
Whit a bunch of whining farts;
Ma Scotland.
Big Hen Broon still standing tall;
Wee wifies in the shopping maul;
Greggs the bakers, RS McCall;
Huns and Tims, bampots all,
Sectarianism’s always on the ball;
Ma Scotland.
Bowler-hatted marching Brits;
Carol Smillie’s threepenny bits;
Hairstyles worse than Robert Pritz;
Silicon Glen and empty pits,
Traditional industry left in bits;
Ma Scotland.