Monday, 3 August 2015

No freedom to roam by Grant Harbison

“Innocentium, my arsium,” the Roman copper said unto me.
What else could ah say?
He wis the law
And ah wis on the other side o’ Hadrian’s wa’
It disnae matter if ah’m innocent or guilty as sin
Wi’ these Roman bastards ye can never win
The fascist thugs have nae sense o’ humour
And ah’ve been nabbed because o’ some stupid rumour
It’s times like these when ye reach the end o’ yer tether
Ah mean, what dae they want here?
Aw they dae is complain aboot the weather
Well, ah’ve been arrested and ah’m surely goin’ down
Or maybe sentenced tae a life o’ slavery by a Latin speakin’ clown
Anglo judges would jist gie ye a fine
For comin’ over the wa’ for some cheap Roman wine

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