A' chiad latha

Duisgibh, duisgibh a fhearaibh, tha mi an seo, bodach as a rian ann an teis-meadhan na h-Alba, le teachdaireachd mu dheidhinn na tha ri thighinn air an larach ionmholta a tha seo. 'S e sin, buamastaireachd, ach rudan a bharrachd air sin cuideachd, mar bhardachd, beachdan, ar-a-mach soisealta, agus torr, torr bhreugan.

An diugh;
Choisich mi a-steach dhan bhaile mhor air an da latha mu dheireadh, bha e neonach an-de, ach an-diugh bha mi ro sgith aig an deireadh airson cail a dheanamh. Ach tha an nobhail agam "Anti-Platypus" a' dol air adhairt gu siubhlach. Tha e araon cac is adhartach.

Seo dan dhaibh;

In Democracy all songs
Sound like handicaps
There is no singing voice
To release me from its crap
But that of Devil Satan
The Chief of Priests of Christ
Who rings the new abortion
The Gods shall be my heist
For I am truly Bagputys
The Latvian God of the sea
If I were to banish God
There's be nothing left but me
So welcome to the Afterworld
The chief priest dies today
And all the sins will be forgotten
As murder dies away
If all mankind just slept
Then evil could forget
Why crime is unmentioned
In the land of alphabet
Jesus had so many names
Before he murdered man
If I could live like I want to
There'd be no way to ban
The return of all the demons
The Satans by the score
Who wish to reconnoitre
The heaven lands of yore
Paradise does not belong
In the lands that lie beyond
Touch a woman's bosom
And you'll be there my friend

Sin agaibh e, a bhalachaibh. Cuiridh mi as do iompaireachd na calpachais air latha air choireigin, ach an-drast tha mi ro thrang a' sgriobhadh. Mar sin leibh