A statement against housework after loss
I winna wash ma windas or bleach the dining room screens,
I winna fash wi recycling or clean up cat sick stains,
I winna pay the coonsil tax cause they can a go hang.
I winna bother wi ma coupon, there’s nithin I can buy?
I winna buy flooers for Tommy’s grave but who will bury me?
Fit if we’re a incinerated, like in Nagasaki?
Fit if I’m in hiven and I canna find my Tommy?
Fit if there’s different hivens, depending how you die?
Fa’ll grow food for they that survive?
Fa’ll mak sure fowk live right and thrive?
Fa’ll paint pictures and mak music and films?
Fa’ll fa oot o taxis displayin their bums?
Fa’ll wear crowns and live in palaces?
Fa’ll score goals and win boatraces?
Fa’ll remember to believe in God, not just on Sundays?
Fa’ll miss me the way I’ve missed my Tommy?
Why survive fan you’ll be even mair alane?
Why prefer t’die fan there’s nithin waitin for ye?
I winna polish the back bedroom and naebody’ll ken,
I winna dust the skirtin boards, fa’s here to lay the blame?
I winna set the table ti see his place sit empty anither night,
I winna say my prayers because the end’s in sight.