by banjo » Wed May 26, 2010 6:59 pm
justice for joe doherty.
joe doherty i knew him well,he was a fine young lad
folk said a lot about him ,but no one mentioned bad,
he was one of thatchers children,with a tough old time ahead,
but who could have predicted that he would end up dead
he would strum along to slade songs on his shiny new guitar,
but joe was stopped in his tracks by...well they know who they are,
it need never have happened,joe should be here today
but the suits that should be in the dock they dont admit foul play
for his family didnt get to see him grow into a man,
through lies damned lies and cover ups to protect a pension plan
they think they are the clever ones with letters after their name,
but i see those letters as an anagram and the word i read is shame
but when their judgement day does come and they are dealt their final blow,
i hope the foreman of the jury is that brave young man called joe
the wasters
another umpteen million for clydebank rebuilt schemes
so much champagne and canapes theyll be bursting at the seams
so much spent in such bad taste
the bankie folk say what a waste
we can see its cut and paste
your ruining our dreams.
theres no long term investment
theres no long term plan
for they never took the time to talk
to a bankie man to man
you may call upon your architects
to use up all your purse
this european funding has fast became a curse
my eyesight may be failing
i cant fight father time
but you aint gonna fix it
with a ten foot wide street sign
for i know where i come from
and i know where im bound
kilbowie road and miller street
and the places all around
theyve been here since before my time
theyll be here when im gone
so if it aint broke dont fix it
please leave it well alone.
wee luigi
the cafe culture long time gone,no coke served in the bottle
no jukebox in the corner now,belting out full throttle
a tanner one shot a bob for three,the islay brothers sing for me
luigi serving personally,for me it couldnt be better
a makechnies roll a big square slice a tunnocks from the shelf,
a knickerbocker glory,not an afterthought for health,
an ice cream sundae,snowball or big banana split
with loads of raspberry topping,oh the very thought of it.
plenty salt and vinegar to splash upon your chips,
and not from plastic sachets in little tear off strips,
every kind of sweetie served from those big glass jars,
soor plooms,sherbet dabs and loads of chocolate bars.
now once again big business he put his big foot down,
he bullied wee luigi and kicked him out of town,
now every chip gets counted and every burger weighed,
exceed just thirteen minutes and your welcomes overstayed.
the last tram.
wee tam went down tae clydebank town tae see the last tram car,
from now on trains and buses would take ye near and far.
he seen a fellow on his knees put coins upon the track,
and tam being quite inquisitive questioned the fellows tack.
quite simple,an investment,as he put the last coin down,
in a year tae come each penny will be worth a half a crown.
tam reached into his pocket his penny to invest,
and sure enough the tram rolled forth and his penny had been pressed.
now tam felt a wee movement in his tummy so to speak,
and made off for the nearest loo along at canal street.
he reached into his pocket but coins he hadnt any,
apart from one worth half a crown his special tram car penny.
he raced accross to cart street to see the gateman there,
but silly tam he had forgot it was the clydebank fair.
connellys pub glasgow road why didnt i think off it,
but the barman pulled the shutters doon and tam he had a fit.
then a shining light came over him like a beacon from afar,
he turned his heels fled to the east fast as a motor car.
six closed pubs he had to pass and did without a pause,
he reached the lovat just in time thanks to glasgows licensing laws.