General Chat

A'though we're a' plain workin' folk The workin' man aye likes his smoke And even the laddies in the schools Smoked oan the fly , the little fools Some wad smoke Capstan and some Woodbine They thocht that they were doin' fine If the Maister caught them, or someone telt, The got a lounderin' wi' the belt And when they grew up tae be men They a' smoked twenty instead o' ten The women they then followed suit The found they couldna dae wi'oot And when they try to lick the habit They find that they are a'ways crabbit When cigarettes is a' wou crave You'll know that you're a tobacco slave Frae when I was born I've heard sic tales That fags were jist like coffin nails The M.O.H have made a test Tae prove what for oor health is best Ye'll hae tae stop or no' smoke often Or ye'll land yersel' inside a coffin Cut oot the fags or heres the answer Ye'll kick the bucket wi' lung cancer The millionaires in their big cars Will be allowed tae smoke cigars Wi' smokin them they're safe they think They'll likely kill theresel's wi' drink Have you every heard sic tommy rot As the workin' class gie up their smoke Nae thocht o' dyin' wi' cancer lurlin' They'll manage tae kill theirsel's wi' workin' This smokin' scare is just a racket Wi' twenty deaths in ev'ry packet Noo every packet will wear a tag Wi' the amount of poison in every fag If we stop smokin for oor health Twill bring the nation back its wealth The cancer scare's a lot of c**p They're trying to close the tradin' gap The Nations finances they'll soon sort Wi' nae tobacco tae import They'll save sae mony million pound The Nations bank will then be sound Before the smoke is oot oot eyes They'll gie theirsel's anither rise They'll smoke cigars in relaxation While we tak' peels for stimulations Davie Paterson c 1962

Are you still typing it?

see below: Just got this copy of a poem by an old work collegue of my late fathers from my brother - this was written in the very early 1960's (warning: this is in Scots lol) she