The Picts lived in Scotland
back when it was called something else – before becoming Albanese, and then Scottishland –
as you do,
or, at least, as they did,
in Victorian times,
or slightly before
(my history knowledge being sketchy at best,
they are blue and hairy,
with naer’ee a vest
between them)
and please excuse my accent,
as I am from just south of the border
by a few hundred miles,
and my accents are a bit hit and miss
I’ll admit it, with smiles,
and I don’t mean to diss
respect the Scotch nation,
I’ve even been there
and seen their elation
at the weather, and the cold;
it makes them of brave heart,
or so I’ve been told;
and porage with salt
is what they all eat,
with extra salt on Sundays,
as a “special” auld treat.
And there’s haggis and the caber,
bagpipes and neeps,
tartan and custard,
heather and sheeps;
and Nessy in a loch
whom you never will see,
and there’s one other thing you won’t see in Scotland,
which is a sassenach like me.