Here's a bit of a twist:
Oh what a sleekit, horrible beastie
Lurks in yer stomach efter a feastie
As ye sit doon amang yer kin,
There starts to stir a michty wind.
The neeps and tatties and mushie peas,
Stert workin like a gentle breeze
But soon the puddin' wi' the sonsie face
Will hiv ye blawin' a' ower the place.
Nae matter whit the hell ye dae
A?'body's gonnae huv tae pay
Even if ye try tae stifle,
It's like a bullet oot a rifle.
Haud yer bum tight tae the chair
Tae try tae stop the leakin' air.
Shift yersel' fae cheek tae cheek
An' pray to God it disnae reek.
But a' yer efforts go assunder,
Oot it comes like a clap o' thunder.
It ricochets aroon' the room,
Michty me! A sonic boom!
God almighty, It fairly reeks
(I hope a hivnae' shit ma breeks)
Straight tae the bog ah better scurry
Aw whit the hell, It's no ma worry.
A'body roon'aboot me's chokin'
Wan or twa are nearly bokin'.
Ah'll feel much better fur a while,
Ah cannae help but raise a smile.
'Twis him!! Ah shout, wi' accusin' glower.
Alas, tae late. He's jist keeled ower.
'Ye mingin' clert!' They shout and stare.
Ah amnae welcome ony mair.
Where e'er ye be, Let yer wind gang free
(Sounds jist the job fir thee an me)
Whit a fuss at Rabbies pairty
Ower the sake o' wan wee ferty.
Anonymous
http://commentisfree.guardian.co.uk/iain_macwhirter/2007/01/burns_would_probably_have_been.html
