A Scotch lass in Newcastle

Not so long ago, up in Geordie land,
Far from the bikinis, beach games and glossy sand,
A young little scotch lass was new to the school,
She entered in her tartan dress and looked a bloody fool.
She stumbled through the corridor, looking for her class,
Shuffling through the crowds in her shoes with buckles, brass.
When finally she scrambled into the room of Geordie scum,
Her eyes began to water, as she saw the kid with rum.
'Wa is 'at loon skitin' rum in skale?' she cried,
But everyone just stared, not even one replied.
'Whats tha lass taakin aboot?' the fat one broke the silence,
The fire in his eyes, his face the picture of violence.
Lassie grew scared, before piddling upon the floor,
'Gandie what sheh did! That sackless jock whore!'
With this the girl just left the room, and ran back to her mummy,
Never to return to Geordieland, where the big boys smelt of rummy.