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We toddlt through the fifties as the Iron Curtain closed We jined the Brownies an the Boays Brigade. On orange juice, cod liver oil we blossomed like a rose In the shadda o the Bomb we laughed an played. The parent generation disapproved o confrontation Boays’ herr wis docked; the lassies’ dresses lang; Wur uncles oan their call-up aw turnt oot fur parade While wi Andy Stewart an Cliff we sang alang. Woooo– -wooo- — wooo Even then there wis the stert Wind o chinge, turnin tide Unanswert questions, rebel hert Burnin feelin deep inside We wid overcome some day. We demonstratit through the sixties, chantit Ban the Bomb Smoke rings oan the paths o peace arose. Wi Che Guevara leadin us we aw wid overcome Cheerin oan the Glesca Eskimos. An loads o us maintained Jack Kennedy wis tae blame Sae oot we cam against wur Uncle Sam. Hey, hey, LBJ: accused an shamed by name The pair wee murdert weans o Vietnam. Wi Beatles, Kinks an Rollin Stones the trendies grooved alang Wi psychedelic strobe lights gien it laldy Us folkies in wur smoky clubs in rebel ceilidhs sang That we wid overcome them aw some day. The ile went pishin sooth; the lion went rampant at the theft Developin wur taste for revolution Wi three day weeks an work-ins ayeways steerin tae the left We cast wur votes in hopes o devolution. Maggie brung us oot again: we wrote it on the was Nae Poll Tax Here! An Sheridan wis liftit. We pit the hat roon fur the miners: saw them loss their cause The polis brung the heavies in an blitzed it. Wur weans wur growin up noo an they didnae aw approve Da’s greyin ponytail, Ma’s gallivanting Thatcher’s wee yins, suits an ties, aw aimed tae self-improve And get a joab in bankin or financin. The millennium’s turn brought chinge again, the swingin pendulum |
Mary McCabe 