Oh aye, young laddie!
Ah’ve walked yer sinister shambles,
an’ marvelled at aw they meathooks,
carcasses swingin’ softly in a muckle breeze.
Yer gutters aflowing wi’ the awful offal an’ the red stuff.
An’ ah thought o’ you swingin’ fae wan o’ them too.
Dinnae try tae intimidate me, ya wee fud!
Jist cos we’re in the fleece,
you think ah’ll go aw shaky n’ that? Eh?
Think ah’ll turn oot tae be jist like wan o’ they toorists?
If you were alive t’day an’ spraffed tae me like that,
ah can tell ye right noo,
ah’d fuck you up.