Oh, Gaelic Gaelic up the Bannock

(With tongue-in-cheek and no apologies at all to Robbie Burns.)

Wee slicket, timorous, tasty beasty

   come, let me bake thee in a pasty,

Onions I will hack and chop forby.

Oh, what a pain is in ma 'breasty

   why did I wrap thee in rich pastry?

Burp a lot I will tonight and sigh.

When next I see a timorous beastie

   I will beat a quick retreaty -

Nor stop to look a Kelpie in the eye.

Come, walk ye Bannocks in the heather

   feed the haggis-whist ya blether

Remember that old Pibrochs never die.

The far Cuillins move sa 'sprightly

  in their sporrans dance twice nightly

No one has the nerve to ask them why.

So all ye Sassenach in tartans,

   eating Macintosh or Spartans-

Yon apples keep you healthier -OCH  AYE.

She