“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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