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Curse O'Ale
Wee Angus on his wae frae work would hit tha pub fa a perk O' Tennents lager frae tha keg whiles chatting up tha barmaid Meg A pint or twa there wae friens a' bleathering awa like scholars an Deans Debators O Parlimentary views Ministers preaching o'er tha pews Wae drink in hand they'd laugh their fill tha glory Mead upon their bill Yelping like some bairney pups catching breeths atween their sups. (nae wiser a man than yin filled wae ale Nae greater a time than while drinking frae tha Grail.) In football games they A' would linger or singing songs for all's a singer Nae matter how bad tha voice a' would request their favorite choice Happy all wae drink in hand while holding up the bar they stand In rattled curses tae tha bumping airms while viewing o'er some lassies chairms Whispering oot all dreams an desires that drink within them all inspires An' Angus kens that soon or late he tae hame must tak tha gate. Kenning tae deep doun inside his drunken breath he'd better hide Saying fareweel tae friens and foes leaing ahind tha pub's warm burning coals Doun he stummels tae tha chippy tha air ootside tis crisp an nippy Making him drunker than afore he side steps frae door tae door Eating his fish supper, enjoying each bite thinking aboot all that's happened tha night. Till there he rouns tha corner street His hame sae warmly it does greet, Falling o'er tha step ootside his hame Tha door it opens, Behold his sullen Dame Trying tae act sober wae all his might afore his wifie here tha night But she nae fool nor blind tae see his daft antics, his blabbering plea. In comes Angus wae words O' love tae face tha thumping slap an shove Her roaring voice would put fear intae tha Deil Hear wee Angus weep an squeal. (What type O' life drink it brings that great at first yet later stings What worth has man tae waste his life wae drinks illusions an its strife. Sooner or later as true as Hell Yin cannie live save by its spell getting worse an worse day by day while friens an family turn away An Angus wheither he kens or no has drifted where tha drunkards go An time shall tell what fate bestows for tha Curse O Ale, nae man knows.) Alisdaire O'Caoimph
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