Saturday, October 22, 2005

Bardachd san sean chanan

An rud a rinn mi, an rud nach d'rinn mi
A thug air falbh uile cheill
Ise a thruaill mi na corp
A chaidh tromham le a beul
Gus breisleach thoirt a breugan
'S e sin a rinn mo chlaoidh
A neochiontas nuair a bha i suarach
A nimh agus i na h-oigh
De bhios annam as a deidh
De tha ann ach mi
Duine chaidh cho stoldach
Nach bi daonndachd nam chridh
'S i a rinn mo mhaslachadh
'S i chuir mi gu eiginn
Ach chithear gu bheil an coire
A'laighe trom orm-fhin
Air sgath gu robh mo bhruadaran nimheil
A' tachdadh mo spiorad bochd
Le breugan agus smaointean cumhang
Le ainniseachd inntinne a-nochd
Ach cuiridh mi mo mhearachd ceart
Laighidh mi le ainnir truagh
Agus bidh m'iobairt na doigh
Gus ar-a-mach airson na sluaigh

Agus a-rithist

Chan eil guth ri radha mhaighdean
Is brist a tha mo cheann
Airson solas a thoirt air ainnir
Ged a tha a gruag donn
A' tuiteam mu m'aodann
Mar a laigheas sinn nar leabaidh sint
'S e an duilgheadas nach eil earbsa
Agam ann am boidhchead seunt
No boidhchead ceart nam bana-fleasgach
A' tarraing anail bho mo chom
'S e sin an rud nach gabhainn fois
Air cail fo neamh no talamh trom
Leanaidh mi mo chridhe rithe
Is bristidh deoir mum ghruaidh
Ach leanaidh i mo chridhe bruite
Air ais gu talamh torrach ruaidh
Far am faic mo ruintean aighear
Is sonas maireann ri mo latha
Is brist a tha mi 'struagh sin
Ach chi mi toilicheas na blaths

Sgudail, trulais, cac tha thu ag radh, agus chan eil thu fada cearr

Friday, October 21, 2005

tide a' ruith tro mo lamhan

Hallo, a chairdean, seo mo dhaintean a-rithist, chan eil mi air a bhith cur ri seo moran sna laithean a dh'fhalbh, ach an-diugh tha da dhan agam dhuibh. A bharrachd air sin, chan eil mi air a bhith ri moran, direach a' coimhead as deidh cloinne agus a' leughadh. co-dhiu

Despair is not a thing
That I feel too often
I'm really not despondent
Or inhaling in the oven
So why worry, the world will fail
To kill everyone it hates
If we kill the ruling class
Well, we won't be inchoate
Cheesy beckoning from the sleaze
The government mixed with sex
All the cute apparatchiks
Say, let's suck and burn our necks
Pleasure of the boaby kind
Is sometimes rather hard to find
But only if you're dribbling
Will monkey wrenching, wriggling
Seem unpleasant and obtuse
I wrangle with my matron
And wax the wiggly noose

Agus a-nis fear eile

Velar fricatives kick ass
If only in a sexy way
If I were a two-pronged floozy
Hooray I'd shout, hooray
Blundering brings us near perfection
Sigmund Freud's a cock
A man who does nothing but waddle
Around his papal dock
So lordy god does not exist
And jesus never died
Karl Marx was no socialist
And Hitler told some lies
So bringing us to the point in question
Why should we believe in you
This government of all affection
The State and all you do
Authority is a pointless muddle
Babies have more fun in jail
If I met a saint again
I'd reach quickly for some nails
So lady let's resolve your quibble
I am a man and not a fridge
If you lie with me tonight
I'll fall over that ridge
You see upon the toadstool
So small my teeth are dead
If anything fills my days with sex
It's laughing at the neds