THE LISPIN LEGHORN
(Ian Middleton)

Noo, this is a tale, tho I say't myself, that'll gar ye cla yer heid
It concerns a chuckin that eence wis hatched, a maist peculiar breed
I chirsened it Meg fin it laid an egg, bit syne it caickilt an crew
So I didna ken if it wis a hen or a cock-a-doodle-doo!

Chorus:
Oh, my, whit a how-do-you-do
For I didna ken if it wis a hen or a cock-a-doodle-doo!

Noo a normal cock o respectable stock his a cra that's clear an crisp
Bit it seemed this freak, hid a feminine streak, for it likit tae cra wi a lisp
It fluttert it's een, like a fairy queen fin the dominant male appeared
An I seen surmised b' it pansified wyes, I wis landit wi something weird!

On a neeber's advice, I entered it twice at Keith an Turra an a'
Bit I won nae prize, in spite o my tries, fin the judge he heard it cra
He speert "Is't a he, or is it a she, for I'm damned if I've a clue
Bit we winna fa oot, we'll settle the doot, wi an independent view"

So we called in the vet t' eyne the debate, an speert gin he'd hae a look
An wi ivery appliance o modern science, he explored each feathery neuk
He hauled an howkit an probit and powkit, nae winner the crater scraiched
Syne he fichert wi funnels for keekin up tunnels tae see gin its hat wis straicht

Weel, fitivver he sa ees heid got a cla an he says fin he'd gaithert ees braith
"Ye wis winnerin whither twis een or the tither – as a matter o fact, it's baith
Yer chuckin's a freak fae its bum til its beak, I ken b' its parson's nose
The signs are clear, I'm ready t' sweer, that it's definitely one of those."

Noo I hiv t' confide I canna abide this modern permissive trend
An nae wye wid I aid its imminent spread wi a bird half roon the bend!
I wis burnin wi shame an as seen's I won hame I raxed its neck wi an oath
Bit in spite o its flaas an effeminate cras, it made a fine potty o broth!