I Was Never a Rebel . . .

By Dunbar Dementia Carers Support Group

I was never a rebel
Well except that time
I wore lipstick and stockings
Stayed out past my curfew well after nine
But I didn’t dare light a cigarette
Until I was at least twenty-three 

I was a rebel, there’s plenty to say
Scramming apples from trees at the big house
Catapulting stones across the wall, crack
Being sent to my room then escaping
Down scaffolding surrounding my house
And running away to play 

I’m a good wee soul really
But there was that day
I was sent to buy bread for our family
I picked and nibbled away
At the fresh, crusty loaf
As I walked slowly back from the bakery 

I was a rebel back then
When I worked in the shipyards
A guy kept wanting my cigarettes
So I did as he asked and rolled him one
I added a wee something extra
And he never asked me again 

I put halfpennies on the railway line
Let the trains press and flatten them down
I stuck them between two copper pennies
Can you guess what I did?
Handed it over at the shop
Bought myself an ice-cream cone 

When I was thirteen I was a waitress
And the hotel boss didn’t give me all my pay
I thought I’m not having this, so staged a strike
Told him we’re not working New Year’s Day
Finally he relented and gave in
Never played a dirty trick like that again 

If people speak down to me
It makes me feel rebellious
And I want to speak out
But there’s a way of getting things across
It’s about picking your battles
Not giving a Glasgow kiss 

I was never a rebel but I have to say
There’s a bit of rebel in everyone
I was a rebel and I have to say
That the memories make me laugh
We should never be complacent
Always stand up and fight and all have our say

rebel tales, nostalgia, memories