Glesga in me Veins was first published in Asylum, issue # 1 [page 12] [ISSN 2230-3235]. New Zealand 2011.
Glesga in me Veins
I caught the underground under it.
Trained the train over it.
Have watched the seals swim in it.
Beautiful, dirty and dangerous.
But tonight it only flows through my head.
I’ve got Glasgow in my veins.
And I am bleeding to death.
As the Clyde flows through my history,
I am haunted by its beauty.
I have died a thousand deaths and yet live to tell the story.
Cried hours on end but yet never shed a tear.
Grieving for a city that I can’t let go.
‘Cause flowing through my veins are the people of Glasgow.
Oh for a wee blether and a cuppa tea.
An Irn Bru and custard cream.
Hardship led to relationship.
Hearts honed and refined.
Tested in the fire – now only gold remains.
Generous, kind, can’t help but love.
Passionate and wild,
Yet strangely with the innocence of a child.
Glaswegians, to the world,
Are like vinegar to the chips.
Without them, something is missing.
But starved of haggis and humour,
I’m bleeding a slow death.
Tonight the Clyde only flows through my head.
And Glesga kicks on through my veins.
‘Cause now my history is a memory.
I have given the Queen back her park.
I left Vicki’s Road with Vicki.
I gave a West End river my name.
And gave Ashton her lane.
So now that I have gone, let me go.
I never wanted it to end.
But end it did, so let me go.
The Clyde will always flow through my head.
And Glesga pump through my heart.
But if you don’t let go, I’ll bleed to death.
Good night Glasgow – good night friend.
Thank you so much for reading ‘out for lunch’. If you are reading and want to contribute, please do. Thanks Kel.