SCRIPTURES ON THE WALL

For a small brown penny
In the slot in the door,
You can entertain yerself
For an 'oor there, and more.
For a' this entertainment,
I'm very pleased tae say,
There's absolutely no
Entertainment tax tae pay.

Chorus: Mushering uma doo rumma da
Whack fol the daddy-o,
Whack fol the daddy-o,
There's scriptures on the wall.

There's jokes and repartee
On the walls there writ
By little city gents
Who go there to display their wit.
Their very famous leader,
Kilroy by name,
He's been everywhere first
And so gained his fame.

A hundred, thousand curses,
Now and evermore,
On the swine wha wrote
At the bottom of the door:
"Whatever it was,
You cam' here tae do,
If you're readin' this,
Then you've done it in your shoe!"

I read on the walls there,
A story, Oh! So sad
Of a great misfortune,
Befell a Jewish lad.
On the chain he hung himself,
There died broken hearted.
Seems he paid a penny
Then the puir lad only farted.

There's some make dates for women,
And some make dates for men.
Some draw in pencil,
And others write with pens.
There's those so industrious,
They don't write at all.
They're the yins who've drilled
A' the wee holes in the wall.

I wish that I could think of something
Witty and bright.
I'd write it on the walls
When I go there tonight:
Engagements for my sister,
I'd make dates for my mum,
Describe ma faither's habits,
Aye, and the big fat bugger's bum.