A Wee Political Domestic

It seems nobody loves me

But you and the SNP

I know you’re quite particular

But I’m not sure about Nicola

Our relationship was full of promise

But in her e-mails she calls me ‘Thomas’

She never uses ‘Tom’ or ‘Tommy’

She's always wanting money from me

Her or that Peter Murrell

I'm not inclined to quarrel

But they don’t seem to remember

It’s six months since I was a member

At least you know how to say my name

And married life is pretty much the same

I cook your breakfast, lunch and tea

Although politically we disagree

About the basics of independence

We both hate the binary nature of referendums

(Although some say the plural’s ‘referenda’)

I detest everything about Eastenders

You never miss a single show

But there’s one thing we both know

One unifying truth we’ve been absorbed in

Neither of us can abide Jeremy Corbyn

That romantic, 1970s pseudo-Marxist

That deluded, arrogant  narcissist 

Who’ll destroy the Labour Party, given time

I don’t know why you’ve not resigned

But where would you go then?

You ask how I can defend

The posturing hypocrisy

Of the governing SNP

Navigating a road to ruin

When there’s so much they could be doing?

Truth is, I'm no starry-eyed student

And I wouldn't.

As for  the Greens and the Lib Dems

No-one gives two Tweets about them

And their fantasies of power and glory

Don’t even mention the Tories

Who - some of my best friends fear -

Could be in power for the next 15 years

Even in a free, but utterly defiled

Caledonia, turned stern, once mild

Oh, it’s a crisis, all right; but let’s not make it a domestic drama

We both like Homes under the Hammer

And though, largely, I favour secession

We need to wait for a proper recession 

When London house prices start falling

And the Trotskyist Hampsteaders start calling

Estate agents in Wick

Saying: 'Buy me a shooting lodge, quick'

And Dion Dublin's advice

Is that Thurso is nice

I know, I know. It's a fantasy

Fuelled by daytime TV

So let's not argue, please

Have some more toast and cheese

Crowdie for me, and  Cheddar for you

Camembert or Rauchkässe would do

Cambozolo, Weisslager, 

Queso Cabrales or Limburger

Manchego, Roquefort, or Mimolette

At least Brexit hasn't happened yet

(I Wish I Was) English Now - full lyrics, music and background

This song is not entirely straightforward. It's neither  nationalist nor  anti-nationalist, but it does play with the notion of being 'English' in whatever you count as 'Scotland'. I don't consider Shetland, where I live, as culturally Scottish, for example.

I was born in Carlisle. In England. Within a year of that signal event, my parents had moved back to their native Scotland, and stayed. For the duration of my schooldays, I was slagged off by classmates whenever my birthplace was mentioned. And the subject of my 'essential Englishness' was always coming up with relatives as well.

My initial defence was to take a perverse pleasure in supporting the English football team against Scotland. later, I became infected with that horrible 'anybody but England' form of Little Scotlandism, which, I fear, still resides in many Caledonian hearts. These days, I regard the sentimentalism that surrounds the tatty trappings of Tartanography -  haggis, kilt, bagpipes, a deep-seated part of nationalist politics - with suspicion. Scotland's much bigger than that.

Anyway, this is a kind of meditation on being English-born, but Scottish, if you see what I mean. It's both sarcastic and honest in its yearning, satirical and deeply felt. if that makes sense. The sung lyrics are what I could remember. The written ones are definitive:

(I Wish I Was) English Now

Soundcloud link - click here, and player will open in a new window and play song

Robert Burns was good, I agree
But he wasn't as good as Morrissey
I wish I was English now
They've got Shakespeare and that's not all
They've got people who can actually play football
I wish I was English now

The beer's better and you know it's true
They don't lace their vodka with that Irn Bru
I wish I was English now
think of the glories you will see
If you go to St Andrews University, where
Everybody's English now

CHORUS
And I may have the paternity
But I was born in Carlisle Maternity
And I'll be English for eternity
I'm English now

Cider in Devon and that's not all
There's Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall
Everybody's Old Etonian now
The best black pudding in the world, they say,
Comes from Bury (Lancs) you don't have to go to Stornoway
Where they kill and eat the English now

CHORUS

And it's not racial purity
Some say it's insecurity
Some kind of self-induced hysteria
I'll tell you boys
It's just easier
To be English now

Bagpipes and haggis used to make me swoon
Eventually, you become immune
I only listen to the Wurzels now
But when I smell the whisky on the Speyside air, I thank God
I don't have to live there
Because I'm English now.

CHORUS

Copyright Tom Morton 2012/2014