I could share some things
But zen ah’d have to keeeel you,
I could tell you stuff to make your skin to crawl,
Adventures from ze vomen,
cloaked in meestery,
I could…
…But I’d be lying,
So I’ll tell.
It’s the patter, see,
You know that we can’t hold it,
it flows,
like the waaatter,
gushing
out from falls to sea,
it’s the stuff, you see, that keeps the world a-churning,
it’s the mystery of life
‘tween you and me.
It’s a little drop of heaven
of an evening,
it’s the tales still told
in company, we girls,
the pleasures and the griefs, bestowed in sharing,
anarchic heroines,
some self-belief.
Eet’s a leetle beet of sumsing I can’t tell you,
For to tell would be selling out my comrade and zey’d know,
She has spies, you zee,
I’ve seen zem, and zey’re fecking fracking
all ze plummets vorth fracking down below.
Zey ‘ave ears, I’ve heard zem leest’ning! And you vonder,
vhy every leetle zing I zay eez code,
Zose leetle buggers leezten, zey’re called cheeldren,
leetle fuckers vith zeir nose stuck eento mode
to spy upon ze mozers who are laffing,
Eet’s Friday, fock, I zink zat eet’z allowed.
Vhisper in ze hushest of all tonings,
zose leetle fockers leesten at ze doors.
Tell zose leetle feckers to quit leest’ning,
eet’s off-putting to ze vomen who’re in flight,
zose leetle bastards spy and tell all seecrets,
Zey’re my nieces and my nephews,
leetle shites.
I still love them.
But, honest to gawd!
I seenk our seecrets are zafe for one more night, V!
scottishmomus 