Document 249

Tick

Author(s): Anna Blair

Copyright holder(s): Anna Blair

Day was when Ma'dve died of shame
To see the grocer put her name
Wi' them that couldnae cash their way.
To ask for tick, for time to pay.

No, goin' a message, me or Shaun
Had aye the money in wir haun'
For bully-beef or cheapest tea
Or makin's of a barley bree.

For, a' her days, by darg or dint
(though whiles gey near to bein' skint!)
Of patchin', mendin', makin'-do
Ma kept at bay the big Taboo,

The credit, debt, goin' on the slate
The things that fair humiliate
The dire disgrace, the black affront
And Grocer Campbell's surly grunt.

But, come the Thirties and the dole
What irks and burrs you had to thole!
Pa's navy suit goin' into pawn
Or else cut-doon to breeks for Shaun,

Beg bones for soup that's boiled up twice't
The bread for pieces thin-thin sliced,
Or near goin' down on bended knees
Into hock for a wee-bit cheese.

But, what was infinitely worse,
Slump ended wi' but blacker curse
Men back to work at gadgets for
The sick, sad boom...of making war.

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Tick