latha eile, is latha ri buain

Nach e laithean sona a th'againn, leis na Staitean Ameireaganach a' sgaoileadh na h-impireachd aca thairis air an t-saoghal gu leir, airson traillean a dheanamh dhinn. Ach, a-maireach, nuair a thig mo dheagh-charaid Tony suas a Crookston, bidh ar-a-mach beag ann, beag, ach bidh e ann gu dearbh.
Agus an uair sin, splaoid. Lige a' Phop, nighnean tarraingeach, ceol aighearach, deagh smuid. Cuiridh sinn as do dh'impireachd a' bhroin le bhith marbh a' bhroin nar cridheachan, neo thoirt na cinn dheth an riaghaltas. An aon rud neo an rud eile.
Co-dhiu, seo dan feargach dhaibh

Plucked from popery I protest
That peacetime is a sham
There's always war by other means
They screw us up like hams
The class above us rule our thoughts
With mind-control techniques
There is no way in time
To scale the monstrous peaks
And redistribute from on high
The journey warps your mind
Until you're screwing over on the sly
All paupers that you may find
Why aren't there more riots
More palaces burning to a crisp
I wish I could start it off
In any way, I lisp
Like those who suppurate
And drip with others' gore
But butchery becomes us
Lets kill the richest bores
A levelling of distinction
A heart that speaks so free
In words of time gone past
Yesterday at half past three
When the general's head exploded
And splattered kith and kin
No rule our lives are freedom
When we murder the powerful we begin
To take control of our own lives
And sing the praise of love
A solid solidarity grows
And banishes god from up above

Slan leibh
Daibhidh