(with a nod and a wink to Alex Glasgow.)
A Nationalist ABC.
A is for Alex Salmond, Scotland’s slightly paler Mandela
Who is absolutely not, no way, to be confused
With a creepy charlatan snake-oil seller
B is for the sleekit BBC who stabbed us all in our Backs
C for is Cox, Cumming and Connery,
Who we love though they don’t pay Scottish tax.
D is for Dundee, Yes City with independence in its soul
The city of jam, jute and journalism
But mainly of D for the Dole
E is for England the Auld Enemy which for so long held us down
Under the colonial heel of the likes of
Rifkind, Cook, Reid, Darling and Brown.
F is for those craven Fearties, whose cowardice let us down badly
And also for Project Fear,
Which turned out all to be true, sadly
G is for Grangemouth refinery, that gets Scot Government backing
And when the SNP help their pals INEOS,
We’ll all be in favour of fracking
H is for Houghmagandie, and the Horny way SNP MPs feel
When their names are Stewart H for Hosie
And Angus Brendan McNeil
I is for Independence, Scotland’s destiny and fate to be free,
Even when J for the Judgement of Scots is
Together is always the Better way to be
K is for Kenny MacAskill, bringer of justice to our nation
By setting mass murderers free,
And scrapping corroboration
M is for Mhairi wee Mhairi, who knows the sum of bugger-all squared
And N is our Queen Nicola,
Who knows nearly as little – if anyone cared
O is for Oil, it’s Ours, and for secret Oilfields in the Clyde
We live here, we’re passionate and we know from the internet
Just what they’re trying to hide
P is Pete Wishart, Perth’s own crap pop Harry Lauder
And Q is for Question Time on the telly,
Where they bus in the punters to order
R is for Referendum, when two million Scots told us we’re wrong
But they’re just scared greedy pensioners
And we wish them all dead before long
S is for Bonnie Scotland, oor land of bevvie, shortbread and heather
Which we pledge to set free very soon,
Although its people don’t want it, not ever
And T is for Trident and Tories, that hated contemptible breed
Just like the U for Unthinkable Unionists,
Consumed by their treacherous greed
And V is the Vow in the Record –made to all Scots as solemn and true
Never mind that up till the vote
We denounced it as nothing much new
So W is for Waste-monster, where we condemn the snouts in the trough
But where we get up to X-rated antics,
And tax-payers pick up the costs
We’d stop, if we could, at Y for Yes, our joyous civic campaign
Because we know in our hearts Z is for Zero:
That’s the chance it could happen again.
© Peter Russell 2016