Nae Money
By Callum J. Gray
Got nae money, got nae fags,
My belly rumbles through my rags
Which cling to my contorted frame,
Shrunk so it can still contain
The lesser lot that keeps me breathing
For the vicious want thats needs relieving
Pockets burning, stomach churning,
Lungs are burning, eyes are yearning,
Down the high street for a loan,
To give the day a lighter tone,
But to me the bank is shut
And the ashtray’s full of recycled butts
One old rolly lasts me days
Since I developed my resourceful ways,
Frankenfags of waifs and strays,
The bastard sprog of plusher days.
I can’t wait till I get paid
To start this foolishness again