Comin Back Ower the Border
Comin back ower the Border
The first ye ken ye’re hame
buildingsIt isna jist the biggins
The brick gien wey tae stane
It’s nae the country roon aboot
rocks, cliffs, glensCraggies, cleughs an corries
thin earthStanes keeking through the shilpit yird
Less caurs an bikes an lorries.
It’s nae the pastels o the North
skyThe weather-gleam in the lift
sharp, roughThe snell gurlie teeth o the wind
lightrain, soggyThe smirr in the mochie drift.
It’s “wee this” “see thon” “Och, gonnae”
straightThe “O” sae straucht an lang
The “R” rollin richly roon the braes
The speak on the rise o a sang.