Skyscraper Wean
A. McNaughtan


I'm a skyscraper wean; I live on the nineteenth flair,
But I'm no' gaun oot tae play ony mair,
'Cause since we moved to Castlemilk, I'm wastin' away 
'Cause I'm getting wan meal less every day,

Oh ye cannae fling pieces oot a twenty storey flat,
Seven hundred hungry weans'll testify to that.
If it's butter, cheese or jeely, if the breid is pan or plain,
The odds against it reaching earth are ninety-nine tae wan.

On the first day ma maw flung oot a daud o' Hovis broon;
It came skytin' oot the windae and went up insteid o' doon.
Noo every twenty- seven hoors it comes back intae sight
'Cause ma piece went intae orbit and became a satellite.

Oh ye cannae fling pieces oot a twenty storey flat,
Seven hundred hungry weans'll testify to that.
If it's butter, cheese or jeely, if the breid is pan or plain,
The odds against it reaching earth are ninety-nine tae wan.

On the second day ma maw flung me a piece oot wance again,
It went and hut the pilot in a fast low-flying plane.
He scraped it aff his goggles, shouting though the intercom,
"The S.N.P. huv goat me wi' a breid-an-jeely bomb."

Oh ye cannae fling pieces oot a twenty storey flat,
Seven hundred hungry weans'll testify to that.
If it's butter, cheese or jeely, if the breid is pan or plain,
The odds against it reaching earth are ninety-nine tae wan.

On the third day ma maw thought she would try another throw
The Salvation Army band was staunin' doon below.
"Onward, Christian Soldiers" was the piece they should've pli
But the oompah man was playing a piece an' marmalade.

Oh ye cannae fling pieces oot a twenty storey flat,
Seven hundred hungry weans'll testify to that.
If it's butter, cheese or jeely, if the breid is pan or plain,
The odds against it reaching earth are ninety-nine tae wan.

We've wrote away to Oxfam to try an' get some aid,
An' a' the weans in Castlemilk have formed a "Piece brigade.
We're gonnae march to George's Square demanding civil rights
Like, nae mair hooses ower piece-flinging height.

Oh ye cannae fling pieces oot a twenty storey flat,
Seven hundred hungry weans'll testify to that.
If it's butter, cheese or jeely, if the breid is pan or plain,
The odds against it reaching earth are ninety-nine tae wan.

This is Adam McNaughtan's marvellous comment on the folly of the modern highrise flat. So-called progress is questioned and the architect put in his place. Has he tried living in his creations or are they his nightmares? At least in the old tenement there was no need for an Oxfam rescue mission!

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