Niver Loass Hairt

Mae fether dee’t whun I wus ten, I dinnae unnerstan’,

It wus young tae be a wain nae mair, an hard tae be a man

I dinnae know hoo much I loast, I mebbae dinnae still,

But life for me for mony years, gane steady doon the hill.

Fae mad tae sane a wheen o’ years a totter’t on the brink,

At fifteen years I got a job an’ loast maesel tae drink,

Aw! naw nae social drinker me, I hid maesel away

An in the courage drink afford’t I got by day by day.

Sae I drunk tae dull mae senses, an I drunk tae bring me roon,

An’ whut I coodnae see aff coorse, it wus maesel that I lut doon,

An whuniver I wus drunk eneuch, I cud nether see nor feel

An whun iver I wus sober, the wurl wus hard an real.

Some’dy caught mae slidin’ as I near’t the gates o’ hell,

I think it wus mae fether, but I coodnae really tell,

That vision shuk mae, waken’t me an’ an tuk me by the han,

“Come on an mak mae proud o’ ye, come on an be a man.”

Fae that tae this I tried mae best, aye, mony times I slipp’t,

But that erm that led mae bak tae life, wud catch mae whun I tripp’t,

An’ I someway know whun I go wrang, he’ll be there tae put mae richt

An if I’m in the tunnel noo, at the en’ o’t is a licht.

Sae I write mae rhymes o’ ouler times, whun he left mae here at ten,

An whiles I think mae fether is steerin’ thon oul pen,

An whether I mak ye lach or greet, I want tae mak ye think,

That some’dy oot there loves ye, nae odds hoo low ye sink.