Salmondland (The Midge Song)
My English friends don’t know pickled eggs must be deep fried
My English relatives - they can all move to Milngavie
My English enemies can stand at the border, weeping Union Jack tears
Wishing they could get past the minefields and settle here
It’ll be marvellous, our health service will still be there
We’ll fund it by making hydrogen from water and air
And selling it all to the Russians, they’ll be happy to pay
And then we’ll all be as rich as they are in Norway
In Salmondland
Everything will be OK
In Salmondland
Richer and happier every day
We don’t let the facts get in the way
In Salmondland
I believe in a land flowing with whisky and Macaroon bars
Where the unemployed will all be reality TV stars
And everyone will be pretty and handsome and rich
And midges will be genetically changed so their bites don’t itch
But now I hear the pessimists are saying
That Scotland might say no
And columnists and pop stars and care home operators
Are all looking for somewhere to go
And when the Herald and the Scotsman have been bought by the Sunday Post
And Kevin McKenna has moved to the Amalfi Coast
In my darkest moments, I’m desperate and grumpy and scared
That’s because my cousin in France has told me I can’t move there
Copyright Scar Quilse 2014
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