One I wrote myself, after they started digging up Edinburgh to put trams back in (after getting rid of them about 40-50 years ago!)

A WHOLE LOTTA HOLES BLUES                

Well I ain't much given to singing the blues,
I'm a cheery person really, whatever the news,
So why should I be writing in a minor key?
It's 'cos right now Embro's no place to be.

Chorus
There's a hole in the road, a hole in the road,
A socking great, muckle big hole in the road,
Wherever I look and wherever I go,
There's a hole in the road, which makes me full of woe.

Well I've lived in this city twenty years, no less,
But I swear I've never seen it looking such a mess,
We've had controversial holes in the ground before,
But now there's so many that I've lost the score.

In bygone days it was the choking smoke
Of Auld Reekie's chimneys that would make you boke,
But now it's the hammering of pneumatic drill
That's doing my head in, and makes me feel ill.

They say that we need to bring back the trams
To cure the traffic problems, have you see the jams?
They've barricaded off our streets, I think it's all wrong,
There's hard hats, and trenches more than half a mile long.

From home to the city used to take me half an hour,
But these days it could easily last for three or four,
There's seven sets of traffic lights have popped up on the way,
And more holes in the road are causing the delay.

And down in the Grassmarket, it's not a lovely sight,
It needs to be landscaped, aye, that would be right,
A new fountain here, and a flower-bed there,
But try to find a parking place, exceedingly rare.

So I'll give up the car in favour of the bus,
And succumb to their policy, stop making such a fuss,
Oh I would if I could, but please tell me, pray,
Why you've shifted all the bus stops to at least a mile away?

Should be business as usual, believe that if you may,
We'll see how many shops live to fight another day,
But I'll go and stay at home, turn my back on the city,
And I won't come back until it's looking far more pretty.

And one day well into the future – when?
They'll have filled in all the holes, and we'll be moving again,
I'll be gliding round on trams just like Lady Muck,
I'll be smiling again, couldn't give a f###.

Final chorus
No more holes in the road, holes in the road,
No socking great, muckle big holes in the road,
No more blues, and no more woe,
I'll be happier then than you'll ever know.