The Bonny Land of Glasgow City.
Stare out the window on a musky gray evening, as clouds creep across the sky,
and see our children swigging from half empty bottles of Buckfast,
In the bonny land of Glasgow City.
Blink, for a moment, and open your eyes,
and see our children pull a knife,
In the bonny land of Glasgow City.
Wander the streets as you wade hopelessly, determinedly through troves of trash,
as our children yowl from backstreet alleys,
In the bonny land of Glasgow city.
Watch the sun peek for a moment before turning away,
as it glimpses the downfall of our bonny land,
Glasgow City.
Come New Year, and we join our hands,
“Auld Lang Syne” we chant, as we blow on our numbing hands,
for another year of repetition and turmoil,
that is the bonny land of Glasgow City.