Ah'm e chiel (sae dinna fash)

Having recovered from a Friday night in with Philomena B, The ChielMeister learns of an unexpected raffle win. However, claiming this mystery prize is not as easy as it would first seem!

Humour in Scots.

Lyrics


Fit lyke noo ma louns an quines?
Fit's e craic noo?
Ah thowcht ah'd spin ye ae wee yairn o ma lest wee duander aboot
Is's gaun tae be brawlik

Noo...faw til't wi ma tombola nummer, seiven thoosan twa hunner eichty wan
Min fit sonse, bit tae claim hit suin ah haed tae phone e baegers, mon noo git gaun
Ah cawed em up lik a tarrie dug, fufty p, thay pit a chairge oan ae line!
A wifie spak an ah axd "f''lyke noo?", an shae repone "You're not so refined!"

Weel, ah wis engert min, ah wis reid-wuid, an ah screicht it hir "Ma prize!"
E wifie says "Come into town, yes, you're the very weird Scotch guy"
Ah feelt ma heid wis gaun tae bla' up sic wis e wye shae spak tae me
Ah says "ah"m nae en eig nor a shankie o lamm bit ah'll aye win en aboot fir ma gree."

Ah'm e Chiel, ah'm e loun, ah'm nae a guffie cloon sae dinna fasht if ah "dinna spik richt"
Fit wye ca' ye nae jist lat me be? A fashit mannie's nae a bonnie sicht
Ah'm nae spikkin sic jist tae mak ye raist, ts'e wye ah soond, ah dinna lee
Ah'll nae parrie wi a daftie, hae im tak iz fur a neep, ah'd liefer claiver wi a haet butterie!

Aff ah gied awa ower by til awn fit wis certie richtfou mines
Wi sic a weirdfu thraw in life ah ootriggit masel up tae e nines
An yonder aboot fuan ah met e wife ah says "Mon noo quine fit hiv ah wan?"
Shae says "I'm sorry I don't understand, say, do you come from Bhutan?"

Ah says, "Help m' Boab min, ye're affa faur-seen, ah'm a Buddhist Monk fae Punakha
Noo, ah'm nae gleg-gabbit, jist Scots, feel an crabbit, bit ah kin spik e Inglis ken an aa!
Bit is's ma hame sae sweel yer lugs oot, div ye ken et hierawa we spik e leid?
"It's no use sir, you're not making sense", "ts aa richt min, ye're a bawheid!"

Ah'm e Chiel, ah'm e loun, ah'm nae a guffie cloon sae dinna fasht if ah "dinna spik richt"
Fit wye ca' ye nae jist lat me be? Ae fashit mannie's nae a bonnie sicht
Ah'm nae spikkin sic jist tae mak ye raist, ts'e wye ah soond, ah dinna lee
Ah'll nae parrie wi a daftie, hae im tak iz fur a neep, ah'd liefer claiver wi a haet butterie!

Weel, ah haed tae quat wi e daftie wife sae tuim-haundit makkit ootgang
Speirt ae mannie fae fuar tae tak e bus, ah says, "fit 'oor dis hit win alang?"
"I'm sorry sir, what did you say?" wis e bletherhaiver he spittit oot
Crivens Amichty, dis naeb'dy ken e craic? 'Re thir nae rael chiels naur-aboot!?

Ah'm e Chiel, ah'm e loun, ah'm nae a guffie cloon sae dinna fasht if ah "dinna spik richt"
Fit wye ca' ye nae jist lat me be? A fashit mannie's nae a bonnie sicht
Ah'm nae spikkin sic jist tae mak ye raist, ts'e wye ah soond, ah dinna lee
Ah'll nae parrie wi a daftie, hae im tak iz fur ae neep, ah'd liefer claiver wi a haet butterie!