The 37 Bus

by Mike Toner

As I was on the upper deck of a 37 bus
Ah seen big Jimmie swillin’ wine an’ kicking up a fuss
The driver stopped the the bus right there an’ belted up the stair
“Yie can get the Hell right aff ma’ bus if ye gie us ony mair”

“Pal, no offense”, big Jimmie says,“but if ye knew what I’ve been through
Ye widnae say such things tae me or blame a man that’s fu’
Fur I lost ma pile on the dugs tadae , I’ll huv yes fur tae know
Fur puttin’ a’ me wages on a dug that widnae go”

The driver says “I dinnae care nor gie a tinker’s curse
Yer swearin an yer bawlin is disturbin a’ the bus
I’ve hud just aboot enough of you, a lot more than I need
If ye dont haud that big tongue o’ yours , I’ll shove it doon yer heid.”

Big Jimmie sighed and he picked his nose and he finished aff his wine
He says “The way ye’ve just spoke tae me has got right oot o’ line
I’ve finished aff fifteen like you tae get intae a fight
Sae doon on yer knees and beg fur help ,yah dirty little shite.”

At this the bus began tae clear as people got off fast,
Wi’ good auld Glasgow chivalry: the women an children last.
They gathered round and they shouted out fur they didnae like big Jim:
“Come now driver sink the boot, get stuck right intae him.”

The driver smiled and waded in kicking and swinging blows,
Until he got Jim’s big square heid a planted on his nose,
His knee came up, his fist went doon that wuz the battle o’er,
So he jumped a few times on his heid as he lay there the floor.

Well then staightaway the polis, they came up tae capture Jim,
In threes an’ fours an’ dozens , well he laid them oot round him,
Until wi’ fourteen stoatin him he finally sensless sank,
But I counted forty polis hats washed away doon the stank.

So if ye’er ever on the upper deck of a 37 bus
An’ see big Jimmie swillin wine and kickin up a fuss,
Don’t try tae act the hero an’ put big Jimmie aff,
Just leave him for the Glasgow polis huvnae got the staff.