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The Jeelie Piece Song (Skyscraper Wean) (Adam MacNaughton) I'm a skyscraper wean, I live on the nineteenth flair, But I'm no gaun oot to play ony mair, Since we moved to Castlemilk, I'm wasting away, 'Cause I'm getting one less meal every day. O ye cannae fling pieces oot a twenty-story flat, Seven-hundred hungry weans will testify to that, If it's butter, cheese or jeely, if the breid is plain or pan, The odds against it reaching earth and ninety-nine to one. On the first day my maw flung out a piece o' Hovis brown. It came skyting oot the winda and went up insteid o' doon, But every twenty-seven hours it comes back into sight, 'Cause my piece went into orbit and became a satellite. One the second day my maw flung me a piece oot once again. It went and hit the pilot in a fast, low-flying plane. He scraped it off his goggles, shouting through the intercom: `The Clydeside Reds have got me wi' a breid-and-jeely bomb!' One the third day my maw thought she would try another throw. The Salvation Army band was staunin' doon below. `ONWARD, CHRISTIAN SOLDIERS' was the piece they should have played, But the oompah-man was playing a piece-on-marmalade. We've wrote away tae Oxfam to try and get some aid, And a' the weans in Castlemilk have formed a ``Piece'' brigade; We're going to march to George's Square, demanding civil rights, Like `Nae Mair Hooses Over Piece-Flinging Height!' BR
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!