The Ballad of the Boys

On the day they let a Scoose marauder in
The auld boys sat there chunnerin’, makin’ a din
Why now do we stoop to admit a Scooser
When wha’ we need is a fine young mouser?

Ne’er worry thy ancient heids aboot it
He’s nae a challenge, he is nae fit
Tae break oor records wi’ his drivin’
But lift your eyes, his wee wife’s arrivin’.

An’ there’s oor Andy an’ young Derek tae
They shall make the Scooser upstart pay
Let’s see him wi’ his wee puny puttin’
Match oor champions wi’ chins a’juttin’.

An’ so the chatter spread aboot
The Scooser’s play was just a hoot
The auld boys fell asleep once more
Until they awoke to Scooser’s score.

Oor records gone, by Scooser blasted
Which we saed were surely everlasted
An’ noo he struts his canny roonds away
There’s none tae match his canny play.

The ainly advance we have for sure
Three bonny wives dance on oor floor
Three bonny lassies wi’ bosoms heavin’
Stop the auld boys from quick a’leavin’.

Oor wee three lassies they ne’er ever chatter
They live fine lives, their bairns an’ granchiel’ matter
Which leaves oor buddies stormin’ doon the way
Breathin’ in the love o’ life itsel’, awhile they play.


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