A parody of "The Song of the Fishgutters" (sorry Ewan!)

SONG OF THE BABY BOOMERS                                
Chorus
Come a' ye Baby Boomers, aye, it's come awa' wi' me,
Frae Edinburgh and Glesga, and frae Perth and frae Dundee,
Frae Lithgae and frae Aiberdeen an' a' the country roon,
We're awa' tae hit the festivals, mak stooshies in yer toon.

We dinna rise sae early noo, we're getting awfy lazy,
But breakfast is at half-past eight, tae us that seems quite crazy,
We've cool bags fu' o' chocolate, bottles o' wine and Snak-a Jacks,
So we'll no be dying o' hunger when we tak oor late-night snacks.

The journey's sometimes lang, but we get there in the end,
We dinna dae the campin' noo, it'd drive ye roon the bend.
We'd raither hae a comfy room wi' fine views o' the sea,
So we're spending all oor pension on a fancy B & B.

No sae early in the morning, but, aye, late intae the nicht,
Your voice is getting croaky and you look an unco sicht,
Ye'll be reaching for the Fishermen's Friends tae sook wi' morning tay,
And you'll wish ye hadnae sung a thoosand sangs jist yesterday.
Chorus

There's mandolins and fiddlers there, and bodhrans and guitars,
There's singers and there's diddlers, and folk propping up the bars,
And you'll wish the Wild Rover had been slaughtered in great pain
By the time that "No Nay Never" is being belted oot again.

We're growing old disgracefully o' that there is nae doot,
Rude slogans on oor T-shirts, and colourful breeks tae boot,
We are the Baby Boomers, and Swinging Sixties too,
So you'd best be on your guard when we come festivalling you.
Chorus

We've festivalled in Lerwick and in Stornoway and Lorient,
And everywhere we've festivalled we ha'e the greatest carry-on,
Whitby, Sidmouth, we've traivelled up and doon,
But the very best festival o' all is here in (XXXXXX) toon.