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

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