THE GHOST OF ROBERT BURNS

Scottish Exopolitical Protest.

Andrew Hennessey  14/02/08

 

A concrete jungle paves Ayrshire fields

And Scottish manhood dreams of space

Or Buckfast wine in his disgrace

No excise [tax] on this jobless place

No corn riggs or fresh breeze on the face,

But there instead a joyless type of farming

bought and sold for genetic gold

The price of getting into space

An end to the humanity of race

For in the dark under alien gaze

An alien harvest in the toon [town]

And on the tarmac you see him pace

The Ghost of Robert Burns.

 

Our Parcel of Rogues

In kilt and brogues [shoes]

Address the haggis and toast the lassies

Their dignities an a’ that

Dead sciences an a’ that

Mars and Europa an a’ that

And the dark side of the moon.

And man to man the world o’er

would be brothers in a fruitless dust

And surely as the world turns

As surely as the ships

With accusations on his lips

The Ghost of Robert Burns.

 

What proud usurpers shall bear degree

And be Laird [Lord] abune [above] the honest man.

Who shall lift the name of Burns and make of it a joke

Who shall use the life of Burns to ease the tyrants yoke ..

‘Grant me indulgent Heaven, that I may live to see

the miscreants feel the pain they give,

Deal Freedoms sacred treasures free as air,

Till slave and Despot be but things that were ..’

Till the rights of man shall be upheld

That billions under threat of end

Shall we with angelic host defend

As even now the tide it turns

And in that throng, it wont be long,

At the dawning of the day, we see,

The Ghost of Robert Burns.