Belfast Boun (Poetry Monthly)

Strange the things we revolve aroun

on our wee country's merry-go-roun.

They'll be arguing here when we're all undergroun

on the south banks of the Lagan in the County Down,

wind yer nex in boys,

we're Belfast boun.

Spides strut stately roun the toon

of Belshaft as black tacks hum around.

I thew a few squid doun the lost and foun

ta them bin hokers who are duty boun

to scoop my feg butts off the groun.

Bout ye le big lawd? Mate I'm soun 

as a big roun poun you just foun on the groun.

Let's bunk aff work and horse aroun.

Jaysus luk at thon, wouldn't  ride her intae a battlegroun 

she's gat flappier baps than a basset houn.

Ballix it's Baltic, rain'll get ya drown

or frostbit so it is, so get ta home all safe and soun.

Get that kettle on nae and settle down,

Julian's on, the man of great renoun,

about as much use as an Irish poun.

So come doun and visit if you're ever aroun

and I'll show you the sights roun this burnt-out town.

We'll not mention them lot the Englishman drowned

far from him selling five lighters for a poun

in a town the crown split across the counties of Antrim and Down.

Back out we go for a dander down the town

to take the air and lose a few poun,

gawk at the blow-ins doun The Crown, 

on our wee country's merry-go-roun.

Strange the things we revolve around,

on the south banks of the Lagan in the County Down,

wind yer nex in boys,

we're Belfast boun.

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