A Glaswegian’s Epitaph

Oh my hert is in the Gorbals
Ma spleen’s in Polmadie
Ma scalp’s atop Duke Wellington’s cone
For aw the world tae see.
Ma hide is displayed upon a waw
In dear auld Kelvin Grove,
To be studied by some boffins sage
Like some ancient treasure trove.
Ma manhood’s makin’ its last staun
For aw tae come and stare
A sight you really must behold
On a plinth in George’s Square.
My left teste lies ‘neath Ibrox turf
A place so dire and dark.
My right one was my favourite
So it’s under Celtic Park.
My chest now floats upon a barge
Puffed up wi’ love and pride
As it makes its final trip
Doon the glorious River Clyde
Aw the other bits bar one
Are scattered aboot the place.
Includin’ a corner of the Burrel stash
Where hangs ma ugly face.
As you stand right here upon my grave
Reading this little verse
You may wonder why I chose this spot
‘cause it’s where I put my erse

 

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