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Firkin
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Highland Games
As I put my nose in Pitlochry
One sunny highland noon
Why the sun, of course soon disappeared
So I stayed there in the gloom.
There were many a well dressed lads o'er there
And dressed up all in kilts they were
Their faces red with tossing the caber
Putting stone and drinking whisky
The poles they threw were big as trees
I'd never risk me life to move them
Hammers that they threw so far
Would surely rip my shoulders out
So I sought a pub and sat meself
And turned to things were meant for me
Then drank a beer then two then three
And soon I dreamed of mighty feats
Fly, fly, fly up to the sky
Fly, fly like a sweet firkin lullaby
Fly fly, fly up to the sky,
For my spirit from the whisky's getting high.
I befriended many a chums
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While stood the ground and sat and drank
And stood some rounds and did not know
What I could say to pissed them off
But suddenly a punch arrivéd
From the ether to mine ear
Deductively I soon derived
That I should have another beer
(or two, or three, perhaps a wee dram too)
So that befell in Pitlochry
Not so very long ago
And though it still shows on me face
I still would have another go
For though the punch was hard, the whisky
Poured to me was smooth and creamy
'nd ever since I tasted it/ It firkin raised me kundalini
Fly, fly, fly up to the sky
Fly, fly like a sweet firkin lullaby
Fly fly, fly up to the sky,
For my spirit from the whisky's getting high.
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