Long, long time ago,

I can still remember how those weeji bampots made me laugh,

And I know if I had a chance

to see those Neds and Sengas dance, I'd laugh my arse off once again.

'Cos don't they realise it's not clever, Drinking Buckfast doon the river,

Tucked-in tracky bottoms, They look just f**king rotten!

I can't remember if cried when saw these bams in East Kilbride,

But it amused me deep inside,

the day the Bucky thrived!

Chorus:

And they were singin'........

Bye, bye, eatin' Greggs cheapest pie,

Drove the Uno roon' the toon oh wi' the techno up high,

Wearing pure wool bunnets though it's nearly July

Singin', "There's that posh wee c**t fae Milngavie!"

"There's that posh wee c**t fae Milngavie!"

Did you write the book of s***e? "Gonnae geez ten bob, gonnae gee'za light?"

Get tae f**k, yer full o' p**h!

Oh and do you believe in hard core techno? Huv ye gubbed 5 ekies fur a night at the Metro?

And can you teach me how to speak reeeaaallll fast?!

You can tell that she's in love wi' him,' Cos he's a Brig'ton Billy and she's a Tim,

They kicked off filthy socks and those manky old Reeboks.

He was a scrawny youth with a GAP pullover, A sovvy ring and a stolen Nova,

They fell in love when he muff doved 'er, (sorry!)

The day the Bucky thrived....

Now for ten years you've been on the dole, Hingin' aboot at the Paisley Toll,

And that's just how it's always been.

When the heidcase screamed at the Polis van, In a coat he'd stolen fae TopMan,

And a fag that came from you or me

But while the cop was looking dapper, The wee bam chibbed him on the napper,

Dressed all in Kappa clobber, As he shouted, "suck ma dobber!".

While wee Tam stole shoes fae Clarks', And Boab slashed some c**t in the park,

They all buzzed petrol in the dark,

The day the Bucky thrived....

Helter Skelter, if the wean greets belt 'er Writing mentions on the old bus shelter,

Eight days straight drinking Faaaaaaaaaast!

Doin' six month for selling smack, The chip pan diet and the heart attack

A night out at Archaos wi' the burd.

The Sengas reek of cheap perfume, While name-tags jangle round the room,

Each one grabs her geezer, A fag and lemon Breezer.

The lack of class is hard to hide, They cannae wait to get inside,

A stairheid winch and a door-way ride,

That's how the punters thrive

You'll see them in their usual places, With silly hats and ugly faces,

Ootside the offy acting hard.

So Shug be nimble, Shug be quick, And get an ounce of speed on tick

Then cut it up and sell it to yer pals.

All lined up ootside the "Paki's", A rainbow of exotic trackies,

Giein' abuse tae grannies, Ya f**ked up bunch of fannies!

And as the day turns in to night, The neds may gang up to start a fight,

But on their own they're soft as s***e!

That day the Old Firm tied.

(Slowly with feeling)

I met a girl who sang 'The Sash', I asked about her pant moustache,

But she just told me to f**k off!

I went down to the local chippy, Where the Neds hung out and the staff were nippy,

And the punters there harassed me for some fags.

Baseball hats at stupid angles, The girls each wore three dozen bangles,

Hair done up with scrunchies, Munching crisps and Crunchies.

But the three meals they enjoy the most, Are chinkies, chippies, beans on toast,

Come Glasgow Fair they hit the coast,

Those days the Bucky thrives!

And they were singin'........

Bye bye, eatin' Greggs cheapest pie

Drove the Uno roon' the toon oh wi' the techno up high,

Wearing wooly bunnets though it's nearly July

Singin', "There's that posh wee c**t fae Milngavie!"

"There's that posh wee c**t fae Milngavie!