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The Doorstep.
I bought a wee hoose frae a Paisley man.
An' his missus a wee Paisley wumman.
I went frae the fire tae the fryin' pan.
They twa buddies had seen me comin'.
Nae sooner had I turned the key in the lock.
When the door fell aff o' the hinges.
I switched oan the light an' I goat a wee shock.
An' my hair tae this day it still singes.
I went tae the meter jist wearin' my soaxies.
An' I tugged at this big yellow cable.
By passin' the boaxies wi' a' the wee cloacksies.
I'm sendin' for a spark when I'm able.
The front doorstep wis worn right doon.
Aye a' the way doon tae the flerr.
Whit will I dae noo I have nae a croon.
An idea came tae me right then an' there.
I'll turn the bloody thing upside doon.
Blood sweat an' a couple o' hours later.
Wi' my foreheid beginnin' tae tan.
I look doon at the step an' at the big crater.
I'd been beaten tae it wi' the wee Paisley man.
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